


Till Death Do Us Part...

by Morrigan_Crowe



Series: Till Death Do Us Part [1]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Original Character Death(s), The Captain is Gay (Ghosts TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-17 22:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan_Crowe/pseuds/Morrigan_Crowe
Summary: After 75 years at Button house, The Captain gets an unexpected visitor on his death day.





	1. An Unexpected Guest

Silence. Just the way he liked it, normally. Except today wasn’t a normal day and with every passing moment of absolute stillness his emotions consumed him with increasing hunger. Grief, was the big theme of the hour, that and guilt. The Captain stared out of the window, motionless but for a subtle sniff, a delicate twitch of his moustache as he regained his composure. His brow furrowed at what he assumed was a squirrel running up a tree halfway across the estate. One eyebrow quirked, watching as it flitted in and out of view before his attention was suddenly dragged to a black car rumbling to a halt on the gravel in the courtyard. He noted with quiet annoyance that he was not the only person to have noticed as the steadily rising babble of excited and curious voices downstairs gathered at the front windows.

“Who are they?”

“Alison were you expecting visitors?”

“Red Man!”

“Post doesn’t come on a Sunday, Robin!”

“Looks like a bailiff vehicle if you ask me, nasty business, reminds me of an old friend I had from Cambridge, Peter Caster-Wallbrooke, Stunning wife, page 3 girl who left him virtually bankr-“

“Ooh look she’s coming out! I wonder if she’s nice.”

“Guys!” Alison’s voice broke the chatter, “Please!” she hissed, and the Captain saw her leave the house, hurrying over to the car to assist what appeared to be the world’s littlest old lady out of the car, their voices muted through the window pane. He welcomed the distraction from his thoughts, though the quiet hum of impatient ghosts was starting to grate. He cleared his throat and adjusted his swagger stick, ready to move out from his post to re-establish a sense of order in the group before he could have sworn he made eye contact with the elderly visitor. He froze, staring at the woman staring back up at the window, her lips moving as she spoke to Alison before her focus was pulled elsewhere, Alison guiding her to sit on the edge of the water fountain. _It can’t be. _The Captain was sure he hadn’t taken a breath since he saw her, yet his un-beating heart felt like it was now kept in an ice cold vice grip. _Nonsense. Go downstairs and sort out the troops, and then see to it that this intruder isn’t going to cause any further disruption to the house._ His heels clicked together, turning on the spot before he marched downstairs, a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. _She would have turned 98 in August… Fool, she hasn’t been seen here since the funeral in 1944, not since Colin disgraced the three of you. _He felt sick, jaw setting as he attempted to push all undesirable thoughts from his mind. _It’s not her. You broke the poor girl’s heart. _He cleared his throat yet again. _Well I didn’t. Colin did. She wasn’t to know. She was never to know. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t…normal. But she knew before that, didn’t she old boy? Knew well before you did. _He stopped just short of the common room, coughing pointedly to get everyone’s attention.

“Right! That’s quite enough of that, move away from the windows please and on with what you were doing before.” There was a synchronised groan from the group, Robin and Julian breaking away first to go back to their chess game.

“Apparently her husband was an officer here during the war.” Pat nodded, gesturing to Alison and the visitor.

“Was he now?” The Captain pursed his lips, rocking back on his heels, the grip tightening on his swagger stick. Pat nodded again, the shorter man clearly trying to choose his next words carefully.

“Yeah… I-it’s kind of ironic really, y’know. I-I mean her turning up here all of a sudden… o-on your Death D-”

“A lot of women’s husbands died during the war, Patrick, wasn’t that uncommon. I should think it’s just coincidence.” He frowned, looking out of the window at the pair at the fountain, his eyes narrowing cynically. Pat shuffled awkwardly, his hands clasping behind his back.

“I-I’m not going to pry…but you should go see her.” He murmured softly, The Captains gaze snapping defensively over him. “W-what I mean is if her husband was here, then you probably knew him. I-I know she won’t be able to see you, but it might bring a little comfort to her, t-to you even.”

“I’m an officer of his majesties armed forces, I don’t NEED comfort, Patrick.”

“Then why you here an’ not upstair in mood?” The Captain turned, staring at Robin who hadn’t even looked up from his chess board to make his point.

He passed Alison on the outside, observing her expression guardedly as she made her way back into the house to make a cup of tea. His head tilted back a fraction, daring her to make a comment of which there was none. _Hmm, quite._ He sniffed, his swagger stick clasped firmly behind him with both hands for moral support as he stepped closer to the fountain.

“It’s been seventy five years... And you still have that godforsaken stick!” The sudden speech made the captain flinch, suddenly defensive.

“N-Now look here… I- I don’t know who you are o-or how you can converse with me, b-but-“

“Oh don’t play that game with me, you might have stayed the same all these years but life went on for the rest of us.” The woman sniffed, turning to look at him. “I’m 98, William, I’ve had 2 strokes and a heart attack so, yes, I can see you.” She stabbed her walking stick into the ground to support herself a little more. “I didn’t come here for an argument, though god knows I have a lot to say to you… but if that’s what you want then go back to your hiding spot and mope.” She sniffed again, bringing out a small delicate handkerchief to wipe her nose with.

He stood stunned, studying the woman closely before his resolve broke and he found himself sitting down beside her, swagger stick resting on his lap gently. “I died with it in my hand…” He stated softly, the pair of them staring off into the distance. “So I can’t let it go… I don’t know how it works but it’s just become a permanent fixture.” He was treated to a ‘hmm’ in response so fell quiet, cautiously throwing a somewhat nervous glance in her direction before watching a seagull stamp on the ground with its feet. Alison came out after a long while, quietly handing her a cup of tea which she took with one gnarled and trembling hand, nodding thanks to the young girl who shot back inside with an anxious smile to the captain. He hadn’t noticed it before, having tried to reject the notion that it was her, but despite the cruel effect age had had on her, she really hadn’t changed that much in the years they had lost. Her hair, which was once long and fiery red (a stark contrast to the wartime fashion) was now shoulder height, straight and pure white. He allowed himself a small smile. _She never was one for rollers and mousse._ The smile soon faltered as he watched her take a dainty sip from her cup. Her hand shook worryingly hard, causing the sleeve of her red coat to ride up, revealing bony wrists, mottled and paper thin skin which looked as if it was held on by the hospital ID bracelet she still wore like a badge of honor. The date, he noted, was two weeks ago. He winced, wanting to reach out to take the cup from her. To help her as she struggled to sit the cup back down beside her. _Did I cause this? _He shook the thought from his head, following her gaze back across the grass in front of them and back into the tense silence.

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited.” Her voice croaked a little as she eventually broke the silence, The Captain shook his head, looking over at her.

“Margaret, I understa-“

“No.” she cut him off bluntly, and he found himself met with the same green eyes he had managed to convince himself he loved 80 years ago, yet the hurt they reflected injured him more than any bullet he may have accidentally caught during the war. “No you don’t understand. So please don’t insult me and pretend.” He fell quiet at that. “Five years, we were married, William. Five years. I didn’t even want to get married that young but you…you…” she huffed, fidgeting with her walking stick. “You strung me along that entire time, lied to my face and then all _that_ at your funeral” she practical shook, decades of bottling up finally coming to the surface. His gaze fell to the floor, ashamed as he recalled the service held a lifetime ago.


	2. Amature Dramatics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Button house: 1944 (flashback)
> 
> More on the incident regarding Colin and the funeral.

“Really now, can a man not focus on his work without some haphazard oaf barking orders and interrupting my flow?!” Thomas wailed exasperated as he stormed out of the tiny staircase leading to the attic. “I’ve had quite enough of these military types drifting around the place.”

“Oh I don’t know Thomas it’s all terribly exciting, don’t you think? And some of them are quite handsome!” Kitty giggled, skipping past as she followed Captain Hopkins through to one of the bedrooms which had been transformed into an office, Fanny screeching for them to let her get some peace. Only The Captain and Robin stood quietly at the top of the stairs, both of them surveying the scene below.

The Captain (he had refused to give the Ghosts his given name) had been dead for just over a week, having been found face down in his office (now Captain Hopkins’) after a heart attack. At least that was what the general assumption was, he didn’t hear what the army doctor had said, being too wrapped up in the fact that he was faced with some new and very peculiarly dressed individuals staring at him. He found the whole thing a dash inconvenient and found himself wandering around aimlessly trying to avoid people walking through him. He was getting there, slowly, getting used to his abilities or lack thereof yet his mind kept going back to his little cottage and Margaret. _And the boy._ He cleared his throat, sniffing as he adjusted his stance to attempt to stretch his spine a fraction before he spotted him. Colin. And his heart sank just a little bit more.

He had met the boy on a training exercise in Pembrokeshire at the very start of the war. A fine soldier, spirited, if a little flighty and he reminded him of Margaret in every way but physical. They had grown especially close, particularly after one night in 1940 after a monumental thunderstorm had sent the village hall into darkness in the middle of a rare party. He was supposed to return home that night, the Captain only staying in the next village, yet he found himself scrambling from his office floor in a torrent of mumbled apologies and excuses the morning after as he untangled himself from his subordinate’s hungover limbs before being silenced with a somewhat bullish smirk and a kiss.

He watched Colin closely, the younger man hunched over on a bench by the front door, his head in his hands as his body trembled, looking as if he was on the verge of breaking down. The image did not escape a fellow soldier who strolled past and gently tapped his shoulder to offer a few words of comfort. The act jolted the private, causing him to flinch violently. “Funerals over, Col’ they’ve been invited over here for the wake. So you’ll have your chance to say your goodbyes.”

The Captain steeled over, his gaze moving to the window as he attempted to scan the grounds for any sign of people he knew.

“What wake?”

“What?” He turned to look at Robin who was trying to peer out the window with him.

“Wake. You no sleep”

“Ah…yes, erm, after a funeral there is usually a gathering for people after…”

“Like party?”

“No not quite, Robin. Not a party, although I dare say a few people here won’t share that same sentiment.” He sighed, returning to his surveillance. _Colin and Margaret can’t meet._ A knot grew in his stomach at the thought, guilt lurching him into the reality of the double life he had been leading for the last few years. Colin knew he was married, they had spoken about it at great length one evening on a patrol. He absolutely understood the situation, not only could their secret have them both court marshaled and imprisoned, the latter likely resulting in death, but her finding out the truth. _She doesn’t deserve that._

“Gentlemen, if you could gather in the ballroom. ETA for the family 5 minutes. The Major wants us all present so he can say a few words.” Both Captain and Robin looked round at a sergeant who marched through the entrance hall and into the aforementioned ballroom. He found his gaze dropping to Colin who had now stood, fingers up to his mouth as he chewed incessantly on his fingernails before scuttling into the ballroom. He looked ill.

“Lady. Uh…fire hair.” The captain all but flew down the stairs at Robin’s observation, making his way to the front door before pausing, realising that he couldn’t be seen.

A normally colourful girl, he couldn’t help but notice she looked grey, the smart black skirt and jacket she was wearing draining the colour from her face. Beside her walked a small boy, similarly ashen in the face and in a tiny brown suit. _Really, Margaret? He’s four, this is no place for him. _He sighed, brow knitted concerned as he followed them walking slowly towards the congregation. He didn’t want him to remember his father like this.

The ceremony was brief, the Major clearly only wishing to extend the house’s hospitality as a formality and The Captain soon found himself standing at the fireplace watching his wife sit alone, sipping tea gingerly out of a standard issue tin cup while his son sat at her feet playing with a small car. The other ghosts had been shooed away by Fanny, demanding that he be given some privacy which he appreciated. _She’s not a bad old stick really. _A sudden flurry of movement to the Captain’s left startled him, and he shifted his eyes to watch Colin, whisky drunk and wide eyed, approach Margaret with the grace and elegance of a new born giraffe. _What are you doing, man?! _

“He loved me, not you.” The Captain couldn’t believe his ears, and by the looks of things neither could Margaret, who leaned back in a momentary stunned silence.

“E-excuse me?” She spluttered, shaking her head. “I-I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink …um …”

“Yes quite!” He chipped in, completely forgetting he couldn’t be heard. “Colin, go back to your dormitory and sleep this off at once. That is an order!”

“You don’t even know who I am do you. I-I’m Colin.” Margaret frowned, shaking her head as the Captain made a frustrated growl.

“Ignore him, Maggie. That is enough!” His swagger stick was raised in Colin’s face, the younger man shaking his head in disbelief, growing more and more agitated.

“You think y-you knew him? Huh? Bet you didn’t know he wished he never married you! We used to talk about it for hours, how trapped he felt. How he didn’t want to hurt his precious Margaret but how he couldn’t help feeling like he was acting the entire time.” The Captain froze, the room suitably distracted into a silent stupor as they watched his worst nightmare imaginable unfold. Beside him, Margaret stood slowly, quietly trembling though her expression was entirely unreadable.

“Don’t you dare assume that I don’t, _didn’t_ know my Husband.” She hissed, her eyes growing red as she raised a finger. “I know exactly who you are, and I certainly know what my marriage was, but I have just buried his _father_,” She gestured to the boy at her feet who was staring up at the ruckus wide eyed. “So I would appreciate it if you performed your amateur dramatics elsewhere to a more deserving audience.” She sniffed, struggling to hold herself together as she picked up her sons hand. “Come along Thomas, I think it’s t-time to go home now.” She led him over to the door, past the disgraced private who was panting grief stricken.

“HE LOVED ME! NOT YOU! IT WAS NEVER YOU!”

“I know!” She finally snapped, turning on her heels to glare at Colin. “I know.” She murmured softly and sniffed, her voice cracking and the Captain felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach, his mouth open as he stared at his family in the doorway, and very aware of his now not so secret partner practically clawing his hair out of his scalp in heart scalded agony. “I know.” She repeated, “But you speak of love. Yes he might have loved you, but I at least had the decency to keep my heart numb, my mouth shut and my eyes blind to keep his dignity and reputation intact. I may not have given him what he wanted, but I at least gave him _that._” And with a swish of skirt and a click of heels she had vanished.

He couldn’t remember the following few hours exactly, having frozen to the spot in shock at the events that had transpired. He could briefly recall faint shouting as a hysterical Colin had been hauled off to sober up, followed by a strong smell of burning as Mary gently ushered him into a quiet spot in the house to stop people walking through him. It wasn’t until he acknowledged Fanny sitting beside him in the early hours of the morning that he found out that the young private had been bundled into a truck and driven off the estate. He nodded, curtly thanking Fanny for the Intel.

“You must have been very close.” She sniffed as she stood to leave him to his thoughts.

“Yes…we were quite. Though I had rather hoped he wouldn’t have made a scene like that.” He sighed, rubbing his face. His head hurt, and his eyes stung like he wanted to cry. _Stiff upper lip Old Boy, you knew something like this would happen eventually._

“People say terrible things when they’ve been drinking. Most unseemly, especially in front of a child.” She ruffled a little, making her way to the wall. “Get some rest, it’s been a long week, and it’s hard when you’ve only just arrived.” The Captain looked at her quietly, before nodding with a sigh, her words doing little reassurance as he cast his mind to the expression on the four year olds face as he was lead out of the door.


	3. Old wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cap and Margaret continue their talk

The Captain sat quietly, still staring the ground in quiet shame, his brow furrowing as Margaret watched him, waiting for him to speak. After a long moment her resolve softened, too tired to hold onto the resentment that had been held back for so many years and she let out a sigh, attempting to reach out an apologetic hand to rest on her husbands. He flinched and pulled it back quickly before she passed through him, immediately regretting his decision as he saw the wounded expression on her face. “S-sorry, I can’t… touch I mean… it’s a ghastly feeling but I can’t…” She nodded, swallowing.

“It’s fine. I should have realised.” The pensioner smiled weakly before she turned her head to once again look ahead.

“You said at my wake that you knew who Colin was… did you know…” he trailed off, his adam’s apple bobbing hard as he risked a look at her, not daring to say anything too specific but frowned when she nodded, looking at him once more with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course I knew. I didn’t know exactly who he was... but I knew something was going on, that you… had interests elsewhere. You weren’t exactly subtle.” Margaret’s eyes rolled, shaking her head before she continued, noting his confused expression. “Christ, you never came near me in _that_ way after our wedding night. You changed, like you realised something wasn’t right and the thing that wasn’t right was me.” She straightened her back, green eyes studying the unchanged face with a small pout. “Sometimes I used to think if we didn’t have Thomas, you would have run out the door and never looked back.” She frowned, gaze lifting as he made to turn more in his seat on the fountain.

“No.” he shook his head firmly. “I wouldn’t have done that to you. It wasn’t your fault, and I would never have punished you for what I was- am.” He corrected himself with a wince. “I don’t regret Thomas, I just…“

“Regret marrying me.” She finished gently, a quiet tone of acceptance behind the words which made The Captain shrug helplessly, shaking his head frantically to retract her observation. “It’s okay. Colin made it quite clear, and I’ve known it for a lifetime, William. I would rather if you were just honest with me.”

The pause that followed was deafening as he swallowed his words, fingers toying with the stick on his lap as though it was going to suddenly give him the right things to say. It didn’t, and he sighed. As he looked up, he felt as though Margaret’s eyes were piercing through to his soul. “I’ve always been fond of you, Maggie, you know that. I may not have been the perfect husband, but we were friends- Good friends, perhaps that made us better than some other married couples out there. The Watsons, for example” He shifted, fingers still fidgeting with his stick. He had expected at least a chuckle out of his last statement, both of them having commented in the past at how volatile their neighbour's relationship was. There was no reaction, so he continued. “I suppose I managed to somehow convince myself that my feelings for our friendship were love. Because that was the right and proper thing for a man to feel, not, what I was feeling towards…well you know.” He sniffed. “So no, I don’t regret marrying you. I enjoyed our family, and you were the best wife a man could ask for. Truly. I did love you, I suppose I still do after all these years… I just couldn’t love you in the way you deserved to be loved. _That, _my dear Maggie, is the only thing I regret out of our marriage.” He cleared his throat, this time looking away himself to try and stem the well of emotion that balled up in his stomach. He was very aware of Margaret watching him curiously, before she followed his line of sight across the estate grounds.

“Do you think, perhaps, if I was a man… then things would have been different?” She asked quietly, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

“Almost certainly." he replied genuinely, the painfulness of the topic etched in his face. He sat up, squinting ahead before raising an eyebrow suggestively. "I always thought you would have suited a moustache.” He quipped, allowing himself a small smirk as he glanced at her, the weight in his heart disappearing as he saw her trying to stifle a giggle with her handkerchief. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“Don’t be. I’m 98, it’s a wonder I don’t have a beard down to my knees.” She sighed, self-consciously scratching her chin before the tissue was folded and stuffed back up her sleeve. “I’ve missed this. Not the depressing past talk… just sitting here with you.”

“I rather think I have as well.” He admitted with a small nod before he was hit with a sudden realisation. “If you knew for those years while I was alive, why didn’t you say anything? You could have went to the police at any time.”

“You know why.” She whispered, refusing to look up at him. She coughed, playing with one of the buttons on her coat. “At the time I thought it was my fault, that I done something wrong and had made you that way and it damn near killed me. The thought of you getting locked up over something that you had no control over…” she shook her head.

“Margaret, You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh I know that now. I was a silly infatuated girl then. I think some part of me thought that one day it would just stop, that you would wake up one morning and we would see each other in the same light.” She sighed sadly, “I think the only thing that I was right about is that it stopped. You just died on me instead… besides, regardless of what went on between us, and the stupid laws at the time I’m rather offended you didn’t trust or respect me enough to speak to me about it.” She huffed, finally lifting her eyes to his face. “We told each other everything.”

“It was respect for you that made me keep it from you. Yes, I was fearful of being imprisoned but I didn’t want to hurt you. And when we found out you were pregnant with Thomas, well there was no way I could say anything without putting both of you at risk. He didn’t deserve the shame of having a homosexual as a father.”

“He was quite proud of it really.” She sniffed, looking up at him almost defiantly. “He was there at the first gay pride rally in… ’72 I think it was. With your medals. And your cap.” She quirked an eyebrow.”

“Good lord, really?” He couldn’t help but puff up a little, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes really.”

“Good lord.” He repeated, “He used to visit here after I died, for a few years until you moved.”

“Yes… I know. He wanted me to come along and play but… I couldn’t quite face coming here...” She trailed off and The captain nodded understandingly, wanting to try and move the conversation away from the topic of his death.

“It’s a pity you didn’t bring him along. He used to play with Robin when he was here…or rather, Robin used to try and play with him.” He frowned confused, “One of the other ghosts.” He explained, trying to work out her expression….


	4. Tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early Spring 1945. The war isn't over, but Captain receives a surprise visitor on his first Death Day. Things don't exactly go to plan.  
(I got a bit carried away with this one so it's a bit longer than intended)  
Many thanks for the kudo's so far and Comments are always welcome!

Over the coming year the overall moral of Button House had steadily depleted. The battalion that used the estate as its headquarters gradually grew smaller in number as more troops were deployed to mainland Europe, with less men returning to their stations as autumn turned to winter and then to spring. The only thing that kept hope within the walls was the fact that attacks on Britain had become rare, though the entire house could come alive in the wee hours of the morning when an order was issued for the men to scramble due to a rogue un-exploded bomb spotted in a nearby village, or worse, an air raid siren.

Those were the hours that The Captain hated most.

He had been existing in his new state at Button House for a year to the day, and every time the orders were barked and the house roared into action he found himself sat in the study with the soldiers left behind, desperately listening to the wireless in the hope that Thomas, Margaret and Colin’s names weren’t listed among casualties.

Colin had rather vanished from existence since his outburst at the Captain’s wake. The incident itself causing a brief two day stir in the house with other soldiers gossiping about the drama, but no further details about what had happened to him. One morning he had spotted a private reading the local newspaper in the kitchen and the deceased officer had spent an hour peering a little too closely over his shoulder attempting to gather any information he could. There was none. It seemed, as time went on, the taboo subject was not to be discussed. The thought itself comforted the Captain a fraction, knowing that his personal life was not the topics of crude jokes and hate, but if only he knew what had happened to the young soldier. _I’d hate to think he was sitting in a cell. Poor thing wouldn’t last a week. _He thought about Colin’s temperament, an excellent soldier despite sometimes getting too emotional. _Perhaps he’s been sent to join the main action? Keeps him out of bother. _Although those thoughts usually led to the captain worrying about him being pinned down by enemy fire, or captured or worse- one the far too many cases of ‘unknown soldier’.

For the last couple of hours he had sat in his bedroom upstairs, alone but for the quiet scratch of pencil on paper as Captain Hopkins worked at the desk in the corner. He didn’t mind so much, knowing full well that he couldn’t be seen, and that no one would disturb the officer while he was doing paperwork unless it was an emergency so he was unlikely to get harassed by raised voices. Today was his first Death Day and, as much as it pained him to acknowledge the fact, nobody had remembered. He sighed, straightening his back against the wooden chair in the corner of the room, his stick rigid across his lap as he examined the intricate pattern on the wallpaper.

_Perhaps Margaret visited my grave, it would be more sensible than visiting here. It is a military base after all. Maybe Colin? Good lord, I hope they didn’t go at the same time. _He frowned, losing his place in the floral design he was following and chose a different stalk to trace with his eyes. _That being said, why the bally hell would Maggie go see me? She probably curses the ground I used to walk on after all that business last year. Maybe she would take Thomas? Would he remember me? He’d be five now. At school. A cemetery is no place for a child though, think sensibly. No. Colin would have gone. He’d have remembered. _He was interrupted from his thoughts as a mop of brown curly hair peered round the door, scanning the room before spotting the Captain. _Oh no. _

“Captain, forgive the intrusion, but I was wondering if you might lend me your ear.” It was more of a demand than a request, and he found himself raising a disparaging eyebrow. “I have composed a short poem and-“

“Not now, Thorne, I wish to be alone with my thoughts.” The poet took a breath, ready to insist before he stepped in again. “No means no. If you wish to find a patient audience then go and bother Kitty. I have said I want to be alone and you will respect that.” He winced a little, feeling the bite in his words was a little more harshly toned than intended. It was however, successful as the ghost huffed, storming out of the room in a sulk. He wasn’t fond of Thomas Thorne. At first he found him easier to talk to than Robin, the caveman having a hard time getting his point across with his limited vocabulary. He was also definitely more mischievous than the other ghosts, often playing havoc with the lights to trick people. However, as time grew on, the poet’s melodramatic behaviour began to grate and he found himself spending more time discussing current affairs with Fanny, or attempting to explain the goings on in the house to Kitty and Mary. No, he didn’t have much time for Thorne. Even his name brought a faint taste of bile to his mouth, as he immediately thought of his son each time he heard it.

No sooner than Thorne had flounced off, he was greeted by Robin coming barreling round the corner. “Oh what now?!” He snapped, casting a sudden glance at the other Captain in the corner who continued his work without noticing the activity around him.

“Captain, need come.” The eldest ghost gestured for him to move, trying to shuffle out of the door. “Come now. Uh, very important.”

“Whatever it is Robin, it can wait. I explicitly said I didn’t want to be disturbed and-“

“Come now!” He began to get more agitated, hands trying to gesticulate words that were getting stuck in his mouth. “Boy in garden. Small boy. You boy. Small. Look sad. No fire lady woman. Captain boy.” The captain found himself squinting, shaking his head.

“What the devil are you talking about?”

“You. Boy child. In garden. By self. No Mum.” He practically shouted, now almost hopping in frustration, his own brow furrowing deeply as he raised a hand, something coming to the forefront of his memory. “THOMAS! Little Thomas. From Captain Death party. In garden.” Realisation hit the Captain like a brick to the face and he all but leapt up from his chair.

“My Thomas?!” Robin rolled his eyes with a grunt.

“Noooo. Hitler Thomas.” He groaned sarcastically, shaking his head before leading Captain out of the room.

“Why the devil is he here on his own? Has something happened? Was anyone else there with him?”

“Do not know. I not try to speak. Thought you speak to him. Your death day. He your boy.”

Sure enough, as Robin and Captain reached the front door to the house, little Thomas could be seen standing a short distance away sitting at the base of a tree, his bike cast aside haphazardly a few feet away. The Captain squinted, looking to the left and right for any sign of the boy’s mother. “He can’t have cycled all this way on his own, surely. It’s almost 3 miles to the cottage.”

“It father death day. Maybe he come see you.”

“He _can’t_ see me, Robin. Be reasonable.”

“He might not know that. He look sad. I go talk if you not.” He shrugged, stepping down the entrance stairs before making his way across the gravel.

“Robin, I say. Leave him alone. I-if he can see you then you’ll only scare the living daylights out of him.” The Captain called out, flinching as a lorry’s engine started, pulling off. “This is no place for a boy, too much military equipment, he’ll get hurt!” He looked away from the lorry long enough to watch Robin reach his son, and sit down beside him. He cleared his throat, not liking the fact that Robin was disobeying orders and hurried to catch up with them both. Within seconds he had crossed the gravel, and was halfway across the grass before he paused. Robin shot him a solemnly serious look, as the child sat with his face hidden against his bare knees, both arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Quiet sniffs and whimpers could be heard muffled beneath a dark green felt visor cap which was miles too big for the lad.

“That.” Robin murmured before standing up to face the boy’s father, his stance defensive of the child behind him. “Is why he come. Death mean time stop for us. It hurt, yes. But time move for living. Boy get older. He no understand then. He know now. He come see you.” He swallowed thickly, stepping to one side.

“Did,” The Captain coughed, swallowing thickly before bobbing on the balls of his feet a little, refusing to be seen as soft in front of Robin. “D-did _he_ say that?”

“Look at him.” He growled a little, not liking the attitude, his teeth gritting. “Me go there, keep watch.” He pointed to a truck that was abandoned. “You,” He jabbed him in the chest firmly, before pointing at Thomas, who was still crying oblivious to the conversation in front of him. “Be father. Not Captain.” He huffed, stalking over to the truck.

The Captain stared at his son for a solid moment, taken aback by Robin’s insight._ He’s right, of course. _He chided himself silently, stick moving from his side to in front of him, his fingers flexing around the wood before he cleared his throat, peering down at the boy a little awkwardly. “H-hello, Tom.” No reply. _Of course you halfwit, he can’t hear you. _He sighed and crouched down in front of him, his teeth gritting with a groan as he felt his knees crunch. “I uh, I see you’ve taken to my hat. A little big for you though. You’ll grow into it I imagine. We’ll make a fine soldier out of you yet.” He chuckled weakly, though got no response from the whimpering child. _This is pointless. _The Captain huffed, looking around helplessly for inspiration before the boy looked up, red eyed and snot faced with a pathetic sniffle. He had changed a lot in the last year, he noticed grimly. Taller, obviously, but his face showed a level of maturity that revealed more about what had happened in the last 12 months than anything the Captain could have asked him. With another grunt, the captain shifted beside him, legs stretching out with an audible click. “I know you can’t hear me, Tom, b-but thank you for coming. I know your mother’s probably told you some things about me… They’re true, no doubt but-“

“There’s a boy at school who’s Dad was shot in Nomun…Norman…_Normandy_. “ The Captain double took, one eyebrow raising sharply.

“C-can you hear me?” His heart was in his throat as he stared at his son who was now playing with the tops of his socks.

“H-he said he talks to his dad an tells him stuff about school an things.” _Hmm, maybe not. _“H-he punched me in the face cos I told him he was being silly.” _Ah. _He leaned forward to peer into the child’s face, sure enough there was some light bruising around his eye socket.

“Well I hope you socked him one back?” He sniffed, sitting back as Thomas lifted his hands up to adjust his Dad’s cap on his head. It really was far too big for him. Naturally, he gained no response from his enquiry so he leaned back against the tree trunk, being happy to just watch his son for a precious while thinking he was unsupervised from prying adults. How he was going to get him home to his mother was beyond him, but he shook the thoughts from his head. _She’ll realise soon enough that he’s missing. Probably already on her way now worried senseless. _

A short distance away at the truck, Robin was keeping watch. He turned, noticing Kitty skipping towards him before she suddenly sidestepped a sergeant carrying a box of supplies. “I say, who is that the Captain is talking to? Is he new?” Robin grunted, shaking his head.

“Uh, Captain boy. Thomas.”

“But Thomas is inside?”

“No not Thomas Thomas, Captain Thomas.” He groaned, moving his lips as he tried to construct the sentence. “Captain, and Captain Lady Friend uh…wife… they make baby…baby grow… Baby name is Thomas.” He gestured towards father and son at the tree and Kitty almost vibrated with excitement.

“Ooh! I didn’t know the Captain had a son! How exciting. And a wife too? But I thought he didn’t have one, not since we saw him and that other man in his office…”

“Hey! We no talk about that.” He scolded gently, pouting at her. “Tis Private. He has wife. And Son. Very painful for him. Why he grumpy all the time.” He snorted, watching the pair for a moment before he noticed Kitty wandering forward. “Ah! No… Son cannot see or hear. This Captain time to speak to son, and son to speak to captain.”

“But I was only going to say hello…” She looked positively crushed.

“Come along, Kitty,” Fanny called out from the front door, hands clasped in front of her as she gazed out across to the tree, her expression genuinely non-judgmental as she nodded to Robin knowingly. "You can ask the Captain questions when he comes back, for now you can help me keep an eye on these soldiers. They keep moving boxes into my bedroom.”

Oblivious to the questions he would no doubt face when he returned to his quarters, the Captain couldn’t help but smirk as Thomas was now stood, swishing a stick he had found on the ground like it was his own swagger stick. The child had since decided in the last few minutes that in fact, it wasn’t silly to talk to his invisible father and was now regaling him with everything he had missed since his death, including the very public berating Margaret had given Mrs Watson next door…

“I don’t know what the words she said mean… but she was being very mean about you a-an’ Mum, I’ve never seen Mum that cross before. Well… remember that time I found a frog in the garden an put it in the cake tin? Well it was worse than that. And she used the F word, and called Mr Watson a deserter but I don’t know what that has to do with pudding…” The Captain couldn’t help but laugh. Maggie did, to say the least, have a temper. It took a lot to get her to that point, but it was there, and if the memory of the Toad (it was a toad not a frog _damn thing was almost the size of a dinner plate!_) was anything to go by he was surprised Maggie hadn’t tried to leap over the front garden fence to try and swat at Mrs Watson with a rolling pin. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Robin wandered back over on his own, having gotten bored of keeping watch. The two men shared a nod before Robin flinched, Thomas having unwittingly swiped his swagger stick straight through his middle.

“Heyyyyy.” He rubbed his side, pouting at the boy before smirking. " Not your son. Look like you. But not yours."

“And what the bally hell do you mean by that?”

“I seen you shoot. Aim bad. His aim much better.” He jumped back as another swing blindly came at him. "Missed me!” Thomas didn’t seem to care, being oblivious to the early man as he continued to swipe before he suddenly because very still, young ears having picked up something wailing in the distance. “What noise?” Robin swallowed, looking around him confused before Thomas backed up, walking straight through him and making him double up.

“Uh oh…oh no…” He whimpered, looking around wildly for an escape route, his hands moving to touch the tree as though it was going to hide him. The Captain stood slowly, having heard the noise gradually getting louder until it was a piercing high pitched wail.

“Air raid siren. Robin get back to the house and tell the others to get into the plague pit!” He paused, suddenly realising Thomas hadn’t moved from the tree, fear freezing him to the spot. Robin seemed to notice this as well, refusing to move. The soldiers back at the house were now scrambling, barked orders and loud confirmations were being shouted above the alarm. “How the hell are we going to get him somewhere safe!?” His voice was drowned out by a loud roar of a plane engine as a large aircraft flew dangerously low over the house, Nazi insignia boldly on the tail of the plane. M_esserschmitt. Shit! _A scream interrupted his train of thought, Thomas had his hands clamped over his ears at the noise before he suddenly sprinted for the area of woodland that bordered the estate. The Captain took off after him, Robin following behind, the former only vaguely aware that the Nazi bomber had lifted from its low flight path after being sighted by a Spitfire.

He suddenly darted to the left, narrowly dodging running straight through his son who had stopped. “Tom come on! Keep going!” He had forgotten in that moment he couldn’t hear him, Robin overtaking him easily and disappearing into the trees. Another loud drone of engines sounded, followed by machine gunfire and the Captain turned to find in his horror that Thomas had about turned to run back for the green visor cap that had fallen off in the panic. He froze, staring at the scene across the estate as the planes dive bombed again, one trying to outsmart the other. Thomas stood, cap in hand, his eyes wide as he stared up at the sky in five year old amazement at the spectacle.

“THOMAS!” Captain bellowed, just visible from the treeline. To his astonishment, his son turned confused, before running towards him. _How the… never mind that now!_ “Come on, this way. Good boy.” He puffed in relief as he reached him, leading him quickly along the edge of the woodland before the stopped at a large rock, the boys little legs shaking in fear, unable to carry him much longer without a rest. “You need to get back to the house, you’ll be safe there.”

“No we need to go home! The Germans-.“ He whimpered, clinging onto the rock for dear life. Robin moved ahead, watching curiously at the scene beyond the trees.

“Metal Birds.”

The Captain ignored him and sniffed, looking down at his son before crouching down in front of him. “Listen to me, Tom. I know this is very frightening, but you need to be a big brave boy. You’re a soldier aren’t you? An officer. You have my cap.” He decided against telling him off for going to fetch it, and smiled gently as Thomas lifted the hat in his hand. “Good man, put it on. There’s a good chap. Now, we’re going to wait for when the Germans fly high again, that means we’ve got a little bit of time to run back to the big house. Now when they do, I need you to keep running. Don’t look back and don’t stop until you get to the big house.” He didn’t want to ask why Thomas could suddenly see and speak to him. At this point in time he didn’t really care, all that matters what that he got him home and safe.

“A-are you coming home with me?” The Captain sniffed, shaking his head. “But I’m scared!”

“Not this time. Someone’s got to look after this place. Look what happens when I take time off! Germans flying overhead? You can do this though, I’ll be with you all the way.” He was answered with a weak nod, the young boy rubbing his face nervously before approaching the treeline to watch the sky.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to stay with me?” The Captain nodded, staring up at the sky.

“Yes, love.”

“All the time?”

“I’m not going to leave you, Tom. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” The Captains eyes squinted, watching as the Messerschmitt about turned before swooping back up into the air, closely followed by the spitfire. “Okay now! Don't look back!”

Robin was the first to take off across the grass, closely followed by Thomas with his Father running alongside. He hadn’t realised the effect that death had had on him, but found he wasn’t getting out of breath like he used to. His heart however was pounding, a sure reaction, he thought to the adrenaline surging through him. _Just a little bit further._ He slowed a little as he realised Thomas’ much shorter legs were struggling to keep up. “Come on son! Almost there! Almost safe!”

“I-I’m c-coming! D-don’t leave me!”

“I won’t! Come on!” They barreled across the gravel and into the main entrance of Button House, Fanny shrieking in shock at the sudden increase in commotion despite the lower level of the house being busy with frantic soldiers gathering weapons and carrying out orders.

“Sarge! A some kid’s just ran in!” One of the soldiers peered at the boy, who was now looking around confused, before he made to run to the door. “Hey! Woah woah, can’t go out there yet, son, just come in, sit down. You’re safe here. Alright? Where you from anyway?”

“That’s Maggie and old Captain Parker’s boy. What are you doin’ here?”

“Where’s my dad?” The two soldiers looked at each other confused. “He was with me, h-he’s still outside!”

“I’m not, I’m here.” The Captain crouched down, looking up into the boy’s face. “Tom, it’s alright, You’re safe, alright? You did such a good job. Well done!” He suddenly lurched as the boy ran through him, completely unaware of the being in front of him.

“My dad’s still outside!”

“Poor little mite, probably scared himself out his mind with the air raid.” The taller out of the two soldiers sighed, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on, let’s go find the Major, I’m sure he’s got a biscuit you can have until we find out how to get you home after this has blown over.”

The Captain stared at his son being led off, his brow furrowed deeply. “He… he did see me, didn’t he, Robin. I-I didn’t imagine that.” He became aware of the faint smell of rotting meat and a rough hand on his shoulder.

“No… not imagine. You were Dad. Good Dad.”

“You think? I let him think I wasn’t going to leave him.” There was a sigh, the hand on his shoulder tightening for a second.

“And you won’t. Not in here.” He reached around, tapping the centre of The Captain’s chest. “He not know now. But later he understand. But yes, I think good Dad.”

“I hope you’re right Robin.” The Captain tilted his head, watching as Thomas was sat on a chair in the study, his little legs only just visible in the crack of the door.

“I know I right. My Dad, kill sister with rock. You no kill son with rock. Good Dad.”

"Hmm." He continued to stare at the door for a moment before he glanced back. "You should go down to the basement with the others, make sure Fanny is there as well. I'm going to..." He trailed off as the siren finally died down, signalling the threat was over. "Well scrap that then, as you were."

"What you going to do?"

"I think I'm going to stay with Thomas, make sure he get's home alright, heaven know's he's had a day of it." He frowned as the door opened, one of the soldiers carrying the small boy out, still in tears.

"I'm going to take him back to Margaret, she'll be worried sick after that siren." The soldier adjusted him, ignoring the pleading wails that drenched the shoulder of his uniform.

"But I saw him! H-he helped me!"

"I know what you think you saw, son, but where is he now? Your dad's been gone a year, alright. Now enough of this, you're only going to worry your Mother even more."

The Captain sighed, swagger stick firmly held with both hands behind him. He had no clue how he managed to communicate with the boy, _Probably scarred him for life no doubt. Still, I suppose somethings happen for a reason._ He stepped through the front door and onto the driveway, watching as the truck Thomas was bundled into drove off. _It's probably a good thing I am dead. _He concluded dryly. _Maggie would have straight up murdered me after how today went._


	5. Family Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to present day  
The Captain and Margaret's conversation continues...

The Captain still couldn’t work out Margaret’s expression. The woman looked suddenly drawn, a pained look in her eyes. _He’s not…_ The grim thought made the Captain run cold.

“H-he is still…?”

“Oh yes, he’s still alive. Turned 79 in April. So not so little anymore.” She chuckled softly. “He’s um… he’s living in a nursing home now. His mind… I forget the exact kind but it’s a form of dementia. He has his good days. Jenny and Michael take turns with their kids to go visit him and I go when I can. It’s… hard, Will normally helps me out when he’s not at university. He’s a good boy.” She smiled weakly, before looking up at his confused expression, gasping in shock. “Oh you don’t know? Silly me of course you wouldn’t. Um… hold on.” She went into her bag, arthritic hands trying to open her bag. “I have a photograph in here. Susanne gave it to me yesterday afternoon from her wedding.” She huffed, The Captain staring at her baffled as he tried to absorb the fact his son had almost lived his entire life, and going by the tone in Maggie’s voice, almost certainly wouldn’t remember who he was. _He knew though, and he didn’t care _He smiled softly to himself before flinching as a large professional looking photograph was thrust into his face as she fiddled with her other hand trying to put on glasses.

He squinted at the dozens of people smiling back at him in the photo. There had to have been 20 people there, none of whom he recognised, except for Margaret sitting in the middle and front like the Queen herself. “Right,” she cleared her throat, having to strain her eyes to see the faces. “That’s me, obviously, aaaand there is Thomas there.” His heart sank as he followed her finger to a rather frail man sitting in a wheelchair, a million miles from the boy he last saw aged 10. Margaret didn’t seem to notice his expression and continued on. _Must have been a good day for him_, _my poor boy. _“This is Jennifer, we call her Jenny, Michael and – where are you- ah yes, this is Robert. Thomas’ children. So our grandchildren.” He double took.

“I’m a grandfather?” He looked genuinely surprised, causing Maggie to laugh out loud.

“Yes and the rest. Don’t interrupt me.” She scolded yet smirked, leaning a little closer to him to see the photo better. “Robert helps out where he can, but he moved to New Zealand about 15 years ago so it’s hard for him to get across. He has three girls himself, they aren’t in this picture, but I have some at home. Claire, Rachel and Tina. These boys here are twins, they belong to Michael. Richard and James. And these are Jenny’s kids. You’ve got Will here, he lives with me at the moment while he’s at university, he’s studying history. And Sarah, she’s got a child as well- Alexa- proper little tearaway, decided to have a child at 14… like her mum. She’s not in the picture either.” She couldn’t help but smirk despite the disdain in her voice “Don’t ask me the baby’s name. It’s one of those ridiculous new types like a city or a fruit but he was born about a month ago” She chuckled, ignoring his expression as he tried to take in the information. “So that’s…one son, three grandchildren, 7 great-grandchildren and 1 great-great grandchild and 1 great-great-great grandchild. It’s bloody murder at Christmas, I can tell you. And for the love of god do not ask me about birthdays, they’re all written in the diary.” She sighed, still holding the photo out for the Captain who continued to stare at his descendants.

“I’m never going to remember all those names.” He murmured, faintly recalling her mentioning about two teen pregnancies, his nose wrinkling offensively. “But, can I keep the photo?” He looked up at her, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“Of course, um… hold on. I have an idea. Will?” she called out, looking over to the black car that was still parked on the drive and a young man’s head peeked out of the window. “Come here a moment would you?” She glanced at the Captain, before struggling to pull herself up to stand. He found himself rising with her, watching the boy climb out of the car. “William, sweetheart, can you do me a favour and write everyone’s names on the back of the photo so it’s clear who everyone is? The lady who owns the place wants a copy as she’s doing some research on Great-Grandad William.” She sniffed, adjusting her stick in her hand.

“Yeah sure, um, Andrew’s invited me over to his tonight so are you okay to shoot off home in a bit?” The Captain found himself raising his eyebrow at the startling similarity to his own face and build, curiosity building at the musical tone in the boys voice that would in his day be described as effeminate before he blinked.

“Is he named after me?” he all but choked out, being silenced with a look as Maggie nodded at the boy in question.

“Just let me finish my tea, use the bathroom and get that photo to the lady and we can go, alright?” The boy nodded, took the photo and headed back to the car.

“William Thomas.” She murmured, having to crane her neck back to look up at the Captain. “He prefers Will though. Ironic really… he’s been seeing that Andrew boy for about three years now. Came out when he was 12. Although come to think of it, I think it would have been more of a shock if he told us he was straight. He’s been engaged for about six months now” She chuckled, groaning as she struggled to sit back down on the fountain ledge. The Captain just stared at the boy in the car before he clicked what she had said.

“Engaged? Can they do that now?”

“I like how you say they like it doesn’t include you.” She snorted making him raise an impatient eyebrow. “But yes. It’s been legal here for a few years, I’m surprised you’ve not seen it on the news?”

“The lady who lived here before didn’t have a television. Alison, the woman who lives here now does but unless it’s my hour of tanks and superweapons or a dvd then we’re stuck watching whatever tripe her husband watches.”

“I’m sure he thinks exactly the same of your tanks and superweapons.” She smirked, picking up her now cold tea as he made to sit beside her again, his brow furrowed as he chose not to bite at her comment, instead watching the boy in the car. Margaret sighed, sipping her cup as she studied the profile of his face closely. “Okay, what is it.”

“Hmm?”

“You still do that thing you do when you’re thinking of something but don’t want to let anyone know.” The Captain raised an eyebrow. “Your eyes squint and you move your moustache. Come on, out with it.”

“Well… I don’t want to bring up bad memories… but…” He sighed, tapping the side of his stick off the edge of the fountain. “It doesn’t matter.”

“William…” He fidgeted, tilting his head back with another deep sigh. “Spit it out.”

“Colin.” He stated quietly. “Do… do you know what happened to him?” Her face fell a little and he immediately back peddled. “I’m sorry, Maggie. H-he’s probably the last person you want to talk about to me. E-especially after everything that happened. I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Now it was Margaret’s time to shake her head.

“No, no. I-it’s fine. I-it’s just…” she chewed the corner of her mouth, a small pout gracing her lips before she breathed in a small puff of air to steady herself. “Colin… William, I’m sorry. Colin died last year.” She peered up at him, and the Captain felt himself shrink a little.

“O-oh.”

“He asked to see me a couple of years ago. I think he knew he didn’t have long left and was trying to exorcise old demons. He was a hundred and one though and had a bloody good innings.” She paused, looking down at her husband’s hands which were gripping his stick so tight his knuckles were turning white. “I’m sorry. Really I am.” He cleared his throat as he stared at the gravel, refusing to look up.

“I know.” He exhaled slowly, “Did he um… did he-“

“Talk about you? You’re all we spoke about. It was quite comforting in a way. He did love you, dearly. He’d have wanted you to know that.”

“Not enough to keep our relationship secret despite knowing what would happen.” He couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice.

“Or maybe he loved you too much to care what people thought or what the repercussions would have been.” She offered gently. “Not many people can say they’ve been loved by two people, William.” He sighed, lifting a hand to rub at his temple. “After his little outburst, he was thrown out of the army. Most of the village folk had heard about what had happened, so he had to leave to save getting himself arrested. He ended up spending the remainder of the war in Scotland and then moved in with his aunt in Brighton once it all finished.”

“Hmm…Brighton’s nice.” He murmured quietly.

“It is. He also met someone as well. You should probably know. Brian. Quite a bit younger than him but they were together for almost 30 years. Got married in 2014 when it became legal. One of the first same sex marriages. Ended up on the news as well because of it.” She swallowed thickly, still studying his reaction. “He didn’t replace you though, I think Brian knew he couldn’t from the start. He did visit you though. Every year he went to your grave. I used to get annoyed by it at first but as the years went on I guess I just got used to the fact I had to share.” She smiled weakly, trying to get a rise from him. It took a moment before he looked up.

“You visited me?”

“Course I did.” She scoffed, mildly offended.

“Well wouldn’t your husband have minded?” he looked at her confused. “I assume you met someone else as well…” he trailed off as she shook her head.

“No…no, I’ve been on my own since 1944.” She avoided his sympathetic gaze. “Don’t pity me, I’ve had offers. I just… I prefer being on my own. I have my family. I don’t need a replacement.”

“I never said anything about a replacement Maggie, 75 years is a long time to be on your own.” He was met with a stonewalled silence and sighed, realising he had hit a sore spot. He turned, looking back to the car before her voice finally broke the awkwardness.

“I had no desire to settle down with anyone, before I met you. No desire at all to… be with a man, or woman for that matter. And I hadn’t…until our wedding night.” She danced around her words carefully, her voice low, embarrassed, and the Captain slid his gaze to her lap as she fiddled nervously with her walking stick. “The only time we did _that_, was on that night when I fell pregnant with Thomas. It might have felt wrong for you but…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I didn’t realise fully until I was asked out in ’53 by Blenkinsop.”

“Blenkinsop asked you out??” He could scarcely believe his ears.

“Yes.” She snapped a little defensively, _That slimy little… _“You can hardly talk after what happened.” He stared at her, immediately falling quiet. “Nothing happened anyway. I couldn’t. Wasn’t for the lack of him trying anyway. I just… everything just felt wrong. Like it wasn’t…” she trailed off, her embarrassment and frustration with him evident in the flushing of her cheeks.

“Me?” He offered softly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She huffed, blinking hard as she looked away, cheeks darkening and the Captain wished he could have reached out and hugged her. He felt awful.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly. “I really didn’t deserve you. And you deserved so much better than what you ended up with.” He swallowed, watching her. “Maggie… look at me. Please.” She turned her head slowly to look up at him. “I’m sorry I trapped you. I made you believe I was something I wasn’t and that wasn’t fair on you.” She sniffed, two fingers pushing into her sleeve to fetch her tissue to wipe her nose.

“I wouldn’t have had the family I have now if you didn’t. So I guess I have that to thank you for.” She smiled weakly, the Captain returning it warmly before chuckling as he sighed.

“God. I did make a right mess of things didn’t I?”

“You said it. It wasn’t all bad though.” He chuckled at her blunt response.

“No… no. I was especially fond of your Sunday roasts.”

“Oh I still do them, not as often, special occasions and the like.” The Captain smirked at her. “I remember on a Friday night you used to bring home those little cakes you stole from the barrack kitchen. You remember? The ones that had the pink icing?”

“Gosh, yes with the little fruit jelly things on top. Friday night treat, Thomas would go up to bed and we’d split it half each and listen to the wireless round the kitchen table.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Yes, and then you’d have a couple of brandies and nag me to dance with you to Vera bloody Lynn in my nightdress. God I hated that woman.” She chuckled, The captain practically grinning at the image before going relatively sheepish.

“I have a small confession.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t steal the cakes from the kitchen. Colin used to make them for me.” He smiled confused as he saw her laugh loudly.

“Oh, so that’s how he managed to sneak his way in then. You always did have a sweet tooth.”


	6. Something's Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to 1939 and 1940
> 
> Just a bit of filler containing a couple of the Captains memories that didn't exactly fit in anywhere else, but fill us in on a few more of the details surrounding Margaret and the Captains marriage.
> 
> As always comments, feedback or questions are appreciated!
> 
> -Crowe-

**July 1939**

_It’s not supposed to feel like this. This is wrong. All wrong. _The Captain lay on his back, covers tucked in under his arms as he stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling sharply. He had managed to finish. Just. But instead of basking in the warm afterglow of wedding night bliss, cold sweat stuck to his bare torso and temple, his face a sickly white as the dawning realisation crept into his bones. _This isn’t normal…!_

Beside him, Maggie lay on her side, one arm bent as she propped up her head, the bed linen draped carelessly around her midriff, flame red hair cascading in gentle waves across her shoulder and onto the pillow beside him. He chanced a look, lips tightening into what he hoped look like a reassuring smile, thinly stretched under his moustache. His mission had obviously failed, and he felt a small delicate palm rest on the center of his chest, her expression changing to a concerned pout. _She really is quite breath taking. _He thought, his brow furrowing confused. _Then why did it feel so damn WRONG?_

“William are you alright?” Her voice dragged him back into the bedroom and he found himself nodding automatically. She didn’t look convinced. “A-are you sure? Is it me? W-was I…” She frowned nervously, her hand moving from his chest to cover herself self-consciously. _She’s expecting an answer. Reassurance. Speak, William!_

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a busy day.” He cleared his throat, watching as his words did nothing to reassure her, her eyes trailing down the mound of covers his body made. He winced as he watched her brow furrow, fingers playing with a stray curl before she breathed in sharply, turning to face him with damp emerald eyes that made him want to walk straight out to the vegetable patch outside and shoot himself in the face. “Please don’t look at me like that, Maggie. I’m just tired.”

“Did I do something wrong though? You’ve gone stiff as a board. Like you’ve seen a ghost.” She sniffed. He couldn’t help it, his hand reached out, rough fingers closing round hers and he squeezed gently.

“No. You haven’t done anything wrong. It was good.” He nodded, a little too quickly he noted. Almost like he was trying to convince himself. “Jolly good.” He sniffed, offering her a small smile. “I’m just tired. Promise.” _Liar. _

She didn’t seem persuaded, her eyes fixed on his face, staring into his soul for what seemed like an age before she swallowed thickly, the pout firmly on her face as she leaned down to kiss him. He responded numbly, the reciprocation not going unnoticed as she suddenly pulled back. “I think I’m going to get some air.” She whispered, slipping out from under the covers, her house coat being tugged on quickly to retain her modesty. _Is she crying? _He found he couldn’t move, instead watching as she gingerly stepped to the bedroom door. “Try to get some rest.”

“Margaret?” she paused, one hand on the doorframe but she didn’t look at him. “I-I love you.” It was the lamest offering he could give her to try and make her feel better. In the dim light, he could just make out her shoulders dropping with a quiet sigh, and she finally looked back over her shoulder.

“I know… but I think we both know I love you more.”

** Mid-August 1939 **

“Yes, but Pembrokeshire?!” The Captain closed his eyes, it was like this every time he was called away on a training exercise, even before they were married. “How long for?”

“Only two weeks. I’m sure you can survive that long without me, yes?” He looked up, watching as she held onto the back of the kitchen chair, blowing out hard through pursed lips.

“Yes of course I can. Don’t be ridiculous. What I don’t understand is what all the kerfuffle is about. There can’t be a war. That’s why we had the Great War, to stop all this carry on with the Germans.” She huffed, sitting down at the table. Though naturally very pale, he couldn’t help but notice she was looking a little green around the gills of late. _I’d know if she was ill. She’d tell me for a start. _“I’m not sure I like the idea of you being sent off to fight. What if something happens?” She looked up, swallowing hard. “Two weeks I can handle but a lifetime…” He sighed, pulling another chair out and dragged it round to sit beside her. Their married life had been a strange one over the last month, less honeymoon and instead close, old friends who happened to live together, and share a bed. He still felt guilty about the way he was, but it wasn’t Maggie’s fault. He had to try to be normal, even if she had stopped even trying to initiate a more intimate touch after their wedding night. She sniffed, fingernails picking at themselves as she stared at the table. She had grown up with an aunt after her mother died in childbirth and her father was killed in France in the Great War. She had every right to be scared.

“Margaret, listen to me. I know you don’t want there to be a war, and believe me- neither do I. But it is my job, to protect you, and protect this country. And the intelligence we have on what Hitler is planning…”

“It’s got nothing to do with us though!” he sighed, reaching out to take her hand and his thumb stroked over her engagement ring, the captains wages meaning he couldn’t afford to buy two wedding rings so they decided against them much to the dislike of the traditional parish. She was in every way ahead of her time, and yet still so naïve about the way the world worked.

“Where do you think the Germans will go if they succeed in taking over Poland?”

“I don’t know. France?” He nodded.

“Perhaps, and with a bigger army. And then they’ll move to the next country, and the next after that. This isn’t children playing, Maggie. This is a fascist regime that will seek to exterminate everyone that doesn’t fit to the Nazi party’s ideal. Including us if we don’t stop it first.” He squeezed her hand gently, watching as she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. _You really don’t look well. _“Do you understand?” She nodded, pulling her hands away abruptly before jumping up and rushing to the sink, the contents of her breakfast hitting the bottom of the metal basin. He frowned, raising a concerned eyebrow as she stood up, shakily moving back to the table. “Do you need to me to call the doctor?” she shook her head.

“No, no I’m fine.” She murmured, one hand on her chest as she carefully sat back down. He eyed her curiously. “Seriously, I’m quite alright. When do you leave for this training?”

“Tomorrow morning. Six hundred hours… six in the morning.” He answered her rather peeved glare quickly.

“Right. Will you be needing a lunch with you? For the journey?” She wasn’t looking at him but he nodded, tilting his head as he watched her closely.

“What aren’t you telling me.” She shook her head, moving away from the table, the sink tap being turned on to rinse away the vomit that lined it. Her refusal to answer him directly only served to fuel his suspicions. “If you’re ill then you need to tell me.”

“I’m not ill.”

“All I need to do is let them know I’ll be a little bit delayed and get Dr. Jessop to come give you a once over.”

“William, I’m not ill.” He had scoffed at that, standing himself to move beside her, gesturing to the sink.

“A healthy person does not suddenly vomit into the kitchen basin, Maggie. You might have eaten something, or picked up a virus off someone.”

“I’m not ill!” She snapped, snatching a tea towel off the worktop and throwing it down again uselessly. “I’m pregnant!” The Captain’s head jerked to the side, before he let out a hoarse chuckle, shaking his head.

“What? How?”

“What do you mean how? You bloody well know how!” She sniffed, picking up the towel again to bring it to her mouth, bile threatening her throat. He cleared his throat as he looked away.

“Quite.” He rocked back on his heels nervously, heartbeat suddenly up in his ears. _How the devil did I let this happen?! We’re on the brink of war, something I’ve been privy to for a while now. No time to bring a child into the world, not to mention whatever arrangement this marriage has come to. I can’t even bare to touch the poor woman in that way and now she’s carrying my child? I’m to be a father? How am I supposed to help raise it when I’m away fighting a war? And what if it’s a boy? If it starts asking questions about women when I’m still having these thoughts… _He became aware of his wife staring at him, her face pale and clammy and he realised he had gotten completely lost in his own thoughts. He sniffed, and she shook her head, turning to busy herself with making a pot of tea. “It’ll be alright.” He finally said out loud, frowning as she scoffed at him quietly. _Who am I trying to convince? Of course it’ll be alright, she’ll make it alright. It’s what she does. Makes do with whatever situation I’ve put her in. Marriage, training, and now this… _He sighed, moving closer, his hand reaching out to take hers and he pulled her into a hug. _I made my bed so I can lie in it. This isn’t her fault. I just need to be a husband. _He pulled his head back a little, placing a gentle peck on her forehead. “I can’t say I’m overjoyed at the prospect. That’d be a barefaced lie. And yes I am very worried if there is a war. But we’ll muddle through. We have to.” He looked down at her, doing his utmost to remain stiff upper lip about the whole thing, and praying that his somewhat middling honesty was enough to reassure her. He was rewarded with her placing a mall kiss on his chin before resting her head on his chest, cuddling in. “When I come home from Pembrokeshire, I could turn the study into a nursery? I’m rarely in there anyway.”


	7. Thanks for that, Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaret has to go. Robin is a sweetheart (if a little cheeky).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time.  
Will be the last update for a few days as I'm away.  
As always comments, kudos and feedback hugely appreciated!  
-Crowe-

The Captain stood guard at the front door, avoiding the gaze of the other ghosts who waited impatiently in the next room waiting for the go ahead to no doubt bombard him with a hundred and one questions. He sniffed, rocking on his heels patiently before a young figure appeared beside him, looking around lost. He smirked somewhat proudly, watching as his great grandson stepped into the house.

“You alright, mate?” Mike had wandered out from the library, causing William _No, that’s right he preferred Will, didn’t he? _to squeak, spinning to locate the source of the voice.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Nan’s just popped in to use the toilet…. Um… could I…?” He grinned sheepishly, bouncing a little on the spot. “I wouldn’t ask but we have an hour drive ahead.”

“Just through there, Will isn’t it?” Alison approached, “She’s still in there, asked me to come check if you needed to go before you left.” She smiled, Will nodding before moving to follow her directions.

“Oh, um, Nan said you wanted a copy of this for your research…” He handed her the family photo. “All the names are on the back as well as how we’re related.”

“Oh um… thanks?” She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Mike before looking up at the Captain who nodded discretely.

“It’s for me” he sniffed, gripping his stick as he stood a little taller.

“Oh, oh yeah the research! Thanks! Sorry, I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t attached” she laughed nervously, desperately ignoring the ‘oi!’ from Humphrey’s head discarded at the foot of the stairs. Will didn’t seem to notice though, moving to dash off to the toilet.

“Is….this a ghost thing?” Mike murmured. Alison nodded. “Cool, I’ll erm…” he gestured back towards the library, shuffling off as he looked around him confused. She waited for a moment before moving towards the Captain.

“Well she seems nice. You’ve never mentioned her before. Old friend?” she couldn’t help but smirk curiously as he smiled softly, nodding.

“Something like that, Alison, yes.” He exhaled slowly, looking down at the photo in her hands before she turned it over, examining the names. “She’s my wife.” She looked up stunned.

“She’s YOUR wife?” she flinched as he hissed at her to keep it down. “Sorry, she said her husband died here during the war. I just assumed you would have known him.” He squinted, eyebrow quirking.

“I’m the only soldier who died here though, it was headquarters, not a hospital.”

“Well yes, but you’re…” She stopped in her tracks, lips parted as the word got stuck, his eyes fixed on her steadily, as though daring her to say it. She didn’t, and the captain softened a touch.

“It was complicated.” He murmured. “I think I might retire to my room after this. Would you… would you be willing to put the photograph there for me please.” She nodded quietly.

“Do you want me to keep them away?” her head jerked in the direction of the next room, and he nodded silently. “I get it.”

“Can she come again? To visit I mean. It’s just it’s been a long time and there’s only so much one can discuss when you’re left sitting on a fountain outside for two hours…” there was a definite dig in his words despite the faint hint of desperation in the tone and Alison had to bite her tongue. He seemed to notice this and decided to rephrase slightly. “Please. She’s 98. I don’t know how long she’s got left.”

“Of course she can. Just…we’ll get her details so I have a bit more notice next time, okay?” he nodded, suddenly standing alert as Will stepped back through, visibly a lot more merry and lighter on his feet.

“You’re an absolute life saver thank you!” He grinned, gesturing back down the hall. “She’s just coming, your light went weird in the kitchen and… well, it’s Nan. I love her but she will go and investigate.” _Robin! _The Captain groaned.

“I’ll go check” he sighed, marching off to find them leaving Alison to deal with the boy.

As he approached the kitchen, sure enough he could hear Robin’s voice chatter away excitedly to Margaret. “An metal birds go NYEEEEEEOOOOO over house, an Captain shout on Thomas an Thomas ran, an Me ran an Captain ran to trees to hide from Metal bird. An Captain very good Dad, he tell Thomas to wait until Metal Bird high, an den run fast to house. We stay with him till safe, but when we got to house he got upset and thought Dad was still outside but we right in front of him. He no see no more. He no see when he came year after, an year after until one year he no come.” He puffed, Margaret staring at him confused.

“Well… we moved closer to the city because I had to work.” She murmured, still somewhat lost in her own thoughts before she clicked. “You said Thomas saw him?”

“Yeah! Me not know how, but he stopped to look at the metal birds.” Robin had now spotted the Captain peering round the kitchen door and pointed at him. “He shouted, an Thomas ran to us. He no see me. Only Dad.” Margaret turned, the Captain suddenly darting back behind the cover of the wall.

“William, I can see your elbow.” She sighed tiredly, The Captain stepping out sheepishly, stick bobbing in his hand as he walked into the kitchen.

“Is Robin bothering you?” He shot a look at the Caveman who immediately stepped behind Maggie, his shoulders hunched.

“No, not at all. He seemed rather eager to speak to me.”

“Yeah William! Me not bother fire hair lady.” He paused as both Margaret and Captain looked at him, his gaze immediately falling to the floor submissively. “Sorry.”

“He was just telling me about the air raid siren. Although you probably heard.” She swallowed thickly. The Captain nodded.

“I might have heard a bit of it.” He murmured quietly, watching as she shuffled on her feet, adjusting her walking stick. “Look, I didn’t know he was going to turn up-“

“I grounded him for a week, b-because I thought he was making you up.” She swallowed hard. “If you hadn’t… If they had seen him…” she trailed off, Robin fidgeting behind her.

“They no see Thomas. Captain did. He was good dad.”

“A very good dad.” Margaret murmured, her eyes fixed on the Captain.

The Captain blinked in the dim light of his bedroom, the military ghost illuminated only by the moonlight shining through the window, lost in his own thoughts as he attempted to get some rest after the day’s events. _All things considered, _he thought to himself, _I didn’t mess things up too badly in the end. _He allowed himself a small smile, fingers tightening on his swagger stick that lay across his hips. He still felt guilty about how things had played out, but she didn’t hate him. _She even made peace with Colin._ He noted with a sniff, before freezing as a sniff echoed back at him from across the room. Quickly, he sat up, head turning to locate the noise to find Robin crouched on the floor, peering into the photograph that Margaret had given him, his hand outstretched as if to reach the people inside.

“Robin what the bally hell do you think you’re doing? Snooping around peoples bedrooms at this hour?!” The caveman turned, frowning at him before looking back at the photo.

“Only wanted to look. You never showed us. Or spoke to us.”

“Perhaps because I didn’t want to show or talk to anyone. A lot happened today, and I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts.” Robin didn’t move, frustrating the Captain more. “Well you’ve seen it now. So off with you.” Still no movement, Robins eyes remaining on the photograph. “I’m sorry, am I talking to myself?”

“Yes.”

“Clearly.”

“Thomas old. But Captain young.”

“I… What?” He stared at Robin confused, watching as the he moved his finger across the photo, his heavy brow twitching with thought.

“Why Thomas old, an Captain young?” The Captain stood, wandering over to him before bending down over the photo, following Robin’s finger. _Ah. _He couldn’t help but puff up proudly.

“That isn’t me, Robin. That’s Will, Tom’s grandson. Did you not see him earlier?” Robin shook his head.

“Only fire hair lady. Except her more snow hair lady now.”

“Margaret, Robin, and yes I suppose she is now isn’t she? Time has gone awful quick. How did you know which one was Thomas?”

“Eyes. Everything else change, but still same eyes.” He pointed to Will again. “He look like you.”

“Yes he does a bit, without the moustache. And his hair.” Robin grunted, nodding.

“Poor kid.”

“Yes, thanks for that, Robin.”

“Welcome.”


	8. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the morning after the officers ball.
> 
> I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get out! Between life and getting sidetracked with another project this one ended up on the back burner.
> 
> As usual, Feedback is hugely appreciated and thank you for everyone who has left Kudos and comments so far <3  
-Crowe-

** 27th April 1940 **

A soft groan left The Captain’s dry mouth as he slowly came round from his heavy slumber. His eyes remained closed as he attempted to ignore the daylight that was burning through the crack in the curtains and onto his face, making the pounding in his head more agonising. _Where am I? What happened? _He shifted a little, rough wooden floorboards scraping at the bare skin on his back, his arm tangled in a coarse heavy fabric draped loosely across his chest. There was a stray limb strewn across his stomach, a wide palmed hand resting heavily on his chest that didn’t feel as though it was attached to him. The Captain frowned, cogs whirring in his foggy mind as he tried to piece together the little information he held.

His thoughts were interrupted by a delicate breath of air across his face. _Maggie? _The pressure on his lips immediately kissed away that notion and he found himself lazily kissing back, still too groggy to fully comprehend what was going on. He could feel stubble rubbing against his bottom lip.

_That isn’t mine…_

His eyes opened, head quickly jerking back as he saw the owner of the facial hair and started, his eyes wide and shocked. “Colin?!”

He was answered with a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright… I’ve just woken up too. You’re ever so handsome when you sleep, any one ever told you that?”

The Captain could do nothing but stare back in utter shock, the vague memories suddenly crashing into the forefront of his mind’s eye. The Officers Ball, the dancing, the constant playful mocking that teetered on risqué, the Brandy, Colin’s mop of unruly blonde curls intoxicating his vision, his damned smile, Maggie leaving the ball due to feeling unwell, more alcohol, Colin and him dancing, the suggestive whispers, missing the last ride back to the village, the brandy he kept specifically for important visitors, kissing, clothes landing on the floor… _Maggie was unwell! _ He jolted, his brow furrowing as he attempted to sit up, trying to desperately ignore the fact that both of them were naked.

Margaret had been, for lack of a better word, ready to pop for the better part of a week. Nearing the end of her pregnancy, she had been reluctant to attend the officer’s ball at the village hall if it wasn’t for the Captain’s insistence that everyone else’s wives would have been there. In truth, he had needed her there to distract himself from the growing attraction he felt towards the blonde private. _And now look! _ He sighed, reaching a hand up to rub his face, guilt building in his gut. He had left her to get home alone, if something was wrong – with her or the baby- and he had…

He could feel a hand on his shoulder, followed by lips trailing up his neck and had to fight not to melt backwards into Colin’s advances.

“Talk to me. I know this is all a bit new, b-but last night… Y-you can’t tell me you didn’t feel somethi-“

“Now look here!” The Captain scrambled up, snatching up his underwear that had been discarded beside them. He tugged them on quickly before reaching for his vest. “I-I am an Officer!” He puffed, searching around the floor for his shirt. Colin hadn’t moved, only looking up at him with doe like hazel eyes. “I-I am also a married man, a-an expecting father! Th-this….wh-what we… whatever happened…” He flustered, struggling to fasten his shirt. “This is strictly off-limits, unwarranted behaviour. From both of us. I-if anyone knew… I-I-I…. no one can know.”

As he hopped around his office trying to tug his trousers up, he felt sick, though whether it was from alcohol induced nausea or from guilt he wasn’t quite sure.

“Categorically unprofessional behaviour. This cannot and will not happen again…” He continued to ramble, unaware of the fair-haired private approaching him slowly until he took his shaking hands, lowering them from his tie. His voice trailed off into silence, and the Captain found himself staring down into Colin’s face helplessly. He hadn’t hated last night. He had felt more at ease with who he was than he could ever remember feeling. Yet that notion ate him alive.

Colin blinked back up at him, studying the lost expression on his face before he cupped one hand behind the Captains neck and pulled him down so he could press his lips against his.

The Captain mumbled into the kiss, rigidly unsure of how to react before he began to relax as Colin refused to budge. His hands awkwardly raised to the younger man’s waist, failing to resist the urge to pull him closer before they finally parted for air. “I-I’m married, Colin…”

“I know, you mentioned it a few times last night. Repeatedly in fact… Yet you’re still to push me away.” His voice was barely a whisper, a coquettish smirk on his lips as he stepped up on his tiptoes to kiss his senior officer once again. A quiet moan fought its way between them until the sound of voices downstairs made them freeze. “Shit… we need to get dressed.” Colin pulled away, and the Captain found himself following after him, longing for more contact. “William… think sensibly.” The private’s voice was gentle, yet firm as he placed his hand on his chest, yet stepped forward to appease him with a peck on the cheek. “We can’t be caught.”

They finished dressing quickly and in silence, occasionally stealing the odd glance at each other before a voice in the corridor made them realise that their location had been rumbled.

“Captain Parker!” There was an abrupt knock on the door, and The Captain looked nervously at Colin who was just finishing tying his shoelace. He cleared his throat.

“Enter” The door swung open, and Lance- Corporal Chisolm panted as he made himself known.

“There you are, Sir! Everyone’s been looking for you everywhere. You’re wanted back at home. Urgently.” The Captain’s brow furrowed, and he picked up his swagger stick from his desk.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong, sir, I-I took Mrs Parker home just like you asked me to. But she went into labour as soon as I got her in the door. H-her aunt’s there at the moment, a-as well as Dr Jessop but we couldn’t find you anywhere!” Chisolm glanced at Colin on the couch, his eyebrow raising curiously. “I-it wasn’t until Bill mentioned you pair had missed the last bus that I figured you’d be here.”

“I should have went home, I-I should never have-“

“You weren’t to know she was going to go into labour, William. You said yourself she told you she just felt a bit off colour.” Colin sighed as he pulled the car into the tiny row of cottages that the Captain lived on. “Besides you were drunk, what going were you going to be? Child birth is no place for a man anyway. Much better out of it.”

“I’m her husband! Stupid boy. I should have gone home with her rather than cavorting with some dandy in…” He closed his eyes, biting back the rest of his words after seeing Colin recoil slightly. “I’m sorry that was insensitive.”

“Not at all. After all, I believe last night makes you one of us ‘dandies’, even if you do want to fight it.” Colin sniffed a little dejectedly. “Just… go see your wife and child, Will. If… If you want to talk about last night or… y’know…then you know where you can find me.” The Captain stared at him for a second before stepping out of the car. He paused, leaning back down to look through the window.

“Thank you, Colin.”

“No problem, Sir. Just delivering a senior officer back to his family.” He nodded pointedly towards the front door before driving off. The Captain frowned confused before turning round to see what caused the sudden change in speech.

_Oh god no._

“Oh look what the cat dragged in! About time you showed up. My niece has been up all night delivering your son while you’ve been off gallivanting with some floozy from the other village no doubt!” Margaret’s Aunt was in every shape and form, a stereotypical battle axe. A particular weapon that made no secret of her disapproval of her only remaining family member’s choice of husband.

“Morning, Hyacinth.” He grit his teeth as he walked past, only to be followed by the continuous hen pecking.

“I said to her, I did, that she should have come back home to have the baby but no. She won’t leave her precious William. _He needs me_. Indeed. Didn’t need her last night did you?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, her aunt continued regardless. “No… she needed you though. And where were you?”

“Listen here, I didn’t realise the situation. Had I been informed, then I can assure you that I would have been here at OUR home and you, you insufferable harpy, would never have been allowed close enough to poke your damn nose in.” He turned, biting firmly on his lower lip to watch her standing there, arms crossed as she tapped her foot on the floor. “Now. Where is she? You said she had the baby, are they both alright?”

“Oh now you ask. She’s resting. So is your son. So no you can’t go up to see-“

“Woman, where are they?!” His voice raised, purely out of frustration. He was answered with a stunned stare for a long moment.

“…In the bedroom… but I really wouldn’t disrupt them sleepi-“

“Why _are_ you still here?” The captain huffed as he pushed past, glaring at her loathsomely. “Don’t you have some other poor man to suck the will to live from, or is that why your husband left?” He stalked off down the small hallway, blocking out the shrill shrieks of protest from Hyacinth. He paused at the door, breathing out shakily before he tapped on the door, opening it slowly. “Maggie?” He whispered, poking his head into the room.

“Hey, come in… Did you have a good night?” Margaret was propped up in their bed, bundle in her arms. The Captain stepped in fully, closing the door quietly behind him. _Deep breaths old chap. _slowly he approached the bed and his immediate sensation after seeing how exhausted she looked was one of utmost guilt, which quietly crept over the pit of nervousness that bubbled within him.

“Uh…yes, yes. I-it was fine. I’m…” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Maggie you should have told me, if I’d have known-“

“If you’d have been here you’d have only been stuck outside pacing. Aunt Hyacinth almost never let Dr Jessop in… and that Chisolm boy… poor thing almost had a heart attack when it started.” She sniffed, looking down at the bundle in her arms fondly. “Would you like to meet your son?”

“My…um… yes, yes of course.” He chuckled timidly, moving to sit on his side of the bed. He cautiously leaned over to peer into the wrapped blanket. “Good lord. Yes he’s…yes…lovely.” He cleared his throat, eyebrows knitting concerned as he watched the sleeping infant. Margaret watched him confused as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“He’s not going to bite, you know.” She smiled tiredly, patting the bed beside her. “Come here.” She tugged his arm up, forcing him closer to her as she adjusted the child in her arms. “Now put your arms like this, that’s it. And remember to support his head.” She laid the bundle down, before looking up at her husband with a proud smile. “See? You’re a natural.” He could only blink back, forcing a nervous smirk back at her before he looked down, a lump forming in the base of his throat.

“I should have been here… “He murmured, shaking his head as he risked moving his hand to gently adjust the blanket around his son. “N-not…”

“Fighting?” Margaret offered naively, causing him to look up baffled.

“What?”

“You’ve got a bruise… there…” She lifted a finger, delicately tapping a purple mark on his neck. He flinched, the sudden ache flashing up a very stark image of Colin biting and kissing his neck in his mind’s eye. The image must have reflected on his face as he felt his wife pull back a little, her expression one of immediate knowing. “I-I’m not going to ask… Y-you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Her voice quivered, gaze dropping to the baby.

“It was just a stupid, school boy jape. A couple of the lads-“

“I don’t want to know. Military business I’d assume.” She interrupted him, a small pout arranged on her face as she blinked hard, fighting to stem the well of tears. “I’m sorry… hormones.” She forced on a smile, breathing a chuckle. “I was thinking… H-he looks like a Tom, doesn’t he?” The redhead leaned in, un-brushed hair falling over her shoulder as she stroked down their sons face with a finger.

“T-Tom?” He was caught off guard by her sudden change of subject, following her gaze to the new-born who was oblivious to the people around him. “Thomas? Yes I think he rather does… Thomas Parker. Sounds like a fine name.” He breathed out deeply, lifting his eyes up to watch her. The guilt continued to writhe and tangle in his gut. _She doesn’t deserve this._ Slowly, he risked a move, removing one of his hands from under his son to reach out, pushing some hair from Margaret’s face. He paused for a moment, trying to read her reaction, before sighing as he reached around her shoulder, pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. “I should have been here.”

He sniffed, feeling her cuddle in, her own arm moving round his middle to help support Thomas’ tiny frame.

“You’re here now.” She looked up, smiling shyly before his view of her was obscured by a mass of red hair as she hunkered down against his chest. “P-promise me something?”

“Anything, Maggie.”

“Wh-whatever happens… e-either between us, o-or this stupid war. H-he needs both of us. William, he’s what is important now.” She sniffed, and the Captain fell quiet for a moment, his grip on her getting a momentarily tighter as he rubbed her back, fingers tangling in a strand of her hair.

“I know. I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to either of you.”


	9. The Second Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie comes to visit again and brings a friend

“Oh honestly Captain, I do wish you’d sit down. You’re making me exhausted just watching you!” Fanny huffed as the Captain passed her for the umpteenth time as he paced the common room watching the windows for any sign of Alison returning.

The only living female of the house, Alison had agreed to go and pick up Margaret from her home to bring her for a visit so they could continue talking. The date had been set a week ago and such as the Captains attitude, everyone, living or dead, had been briefed in exactly how to behave in front of his widow. He sniffed, clicking his heels as he began the long walk back across the room before the noise of an engine caught his attention.

“Ah, excellent. A little off schedule, but never the less. Places please!” He turned, frowning at the lack of people in the room. “Where is everyone?”

“Erm… they kind of got bored and decided to just go do their own thing.” Pat shrugged as he sat at the piano stool. “I-it was a bit much. Surely this should be a private thing between you and Margaret? She doesn’t need all of us hanging around.” He chuckled weakly, adjusting his glasses. “Still, I’m here. A-and so is Fanny. Humphrey is…well he’s somewhere and Robin said he was going to check in later.”

“I see. Well I suppose you’re right. The others would just ask unnecessary questions.” His stagger stick tapped gently against his palm.

The front door opened, and the Captain visibly straightened to attention as he wandered through to the hall, his eyebrow raising confused as Alison stood on her own clutching a large book to her chest.

“Where is she?”

“Ah… um, Maggie’s just coming. There’s been a slight change in plan. She’s in a taxi with a friend. They should be here in the next 10 to 15 minutes. There just wasn’t room in the car.”

“Friend? What friend?”

“I’m not allowed to say. Maggie was very strict about that. Wanted to keep it as a surprise. I’m just hoping everything’s going to be safe enough in the house for- Mike! Can you put the kettle on?” She smiled, wandering off to leave the Captain alone in the hall.

“Everything alright?” Pat peeked in the doorway. “Only Fanny’s getting antsy.”

“What? Yes, yes everything’s fine. Just a bit of a delay is all. Um…Margaret’s bringing a friend.”

“Oooh…” Pat smiled, before his expression fell noticing the Officers confusion. “Oh. Is this a good friend or a bad friend?”

“Not sure… she knows I hate surprises.”

“Well, maybe she’s not told you because she knows you’ll only over think st- I’ll erm…” he pointed back towards the common room after receiving a sharp look from the Captain, who sighed dejectedly.

“No, no you’re right. It’s pointless standing around waiting like spare ends. I’m sure Alison has it all under control and Maggie knows what she’s doing.” He turned, following Pat into the common room before immediately making a U-turn as Alison hurried outside calling that the Taxi was here and that Mike was to come out too.

“William.” Margaret smiled as she hobbled inside, one hand holding onto Alison’s shakily. The Captain nodded, smirking nervously as he led them into the common room. “Michael does know about…” The 98 year old looked up at the present owner concerned.

“What? Yeah Mike’ll be fine. I’ve filled him in. He’s cool. So… this is Pat.” She pointed at the scout master who was eagerly standing by the window.

“Hullo! I’m not sticking round, only here to say hi” He chuckled, looking up at the Captain before swiftly leaving the room.

“And this is Fanny,” The former Lady Button nodded curtly from her spot on the chair by the fireplace. “The others are about somewhere, but if you want to sit here, I’ll go and make tea. Two sugars and milk wasn’t it?”

“Y-yes, please. A-and another one with plenty of milk but no sugar.” Maggie called out as she settled herself into the sofa, puffing for breath as she attempted to sort her stick and her bag out. The Captain sat down beside her.

“So who’s this friend you’ve brought?” He asked curiously.

“You’ll see soon enough. Stop being nosey” she smirked, a faint twinkle in her green eyes. “Just someone who wanted to see the house again.” There was a sniff, and she shakily lifted a book onto her lap. “I brought this, figured you’d might like it. I’ve got copies at home, but they’re all of Thomas growing up.” She coughed, wiping her bottom lip.

“Are you alright? Alison said you had just come out of hospital.”

“Me? Oh I’m fine. Just old” she laughed hoarsely before realising he was unconvinced. “William I’m fine. Still got some fight in me left, don’t worry.” She reached out to pat his knee, flinching as her hand went straight through and caused him to lurch with a gag. “Oh god I’m sorry. I completely forgot!”

“It’s fine!” he puffed, twisting his neck to try and crack it. “It happens. I’m just glad you’re on the mend.”

“Did you have far to travel?” Fanny spoke up from the corner, and Maggie shook her head.

“No, not really. I mean we had to take a detour to pick Tom up but only about an hour or so.”

“Tom??” The Captain’s head snapped to attention. “You’ve brought Thomas?”

“Y-yes… oh this was supposed to be a surprise… Mikes just bringing him in.” He was already on his feet. “William just be patient he won’t see you.” She attempted to call out after him as he ran out of the door. “…He doesn’t know you’re still here...”

“Men… they just won’t listen will they?” Fanny scoffed, sitting back in her arm chair.

The Captain almost skidded on the gravel as he ran outside, his eyes searching for the Taxi before he saw Mike standing with a slightly smaller, yet much older and frailer man near the rose bushes.

“My boy. Tom! Tom it’s me!” The officer had lost all sense of composure as he ran up to them both, eagerly trying to get a better look.

“Yeah, so… Alison, that’s my wife, she does all the stuff with the plants. I don’t see the point really. All they do is make a mess, and roses are quite difficult to grow really aren’t they?” Mike offered uselessly as the Captain’s son investigated the flowers silently. He puffed out his cheeks, struggling to come up with much more one sided conversation. “Your Dad was an officer here, wasn’t he? A captain?”

“Hmm.” Tom looked up, squinting at Mike lost before he showed a little clarity in his mind. “They used to use this as a base during the war. I was here when the Germans were shot down over Guildford.” He sniffed, looking up at the house before glancing across at the tree in the middle of the lawn.

“Right… but your dad. You remember him?” The Captain stared at Tom hopefully, almost bouncing on the spot.

“Where’s Jennifer? She normally comes to take me shopping. She’ll be worried if I’m not at home.” Captain frowned, his excitement falling as he realised the inevitability of Thomas’ dementia. _He doesn’t remember. _

“Uh… I don’t know who Jennifer is, mate, but your mum’s inside. Shall we go see her? Get you a nice sit down and a cup of tea? Come on.”

The Captain followed them in closely, one hand out protectively as he watched his only son shuffle in unsteadily propped up by Mike. He sniffed, crestfallen as he looked up at his wife on the couch. “I didn’t realise.” He murmured helplessly.

“No one does. He can’t see you though. Physically he’s fine. Old. Yes. But his mind… today’s a good day. Some days he can’t even remember his name.” Maggie made a face, patting the chair beside her. “Come on, love. Here. Alison made you some tea.” She smiled gently, handing the half cup to Thomas as he sat down, nodding thanks to Mike who quickly vacated the room.

“H-he mentioned about the plane incident. Outside, when he was talking to Michael.” Maggie nodded at her husband.

“Yes, he does talk about that quite a lot. He used to get quite upset that no one believed him that he could see you. Didn’t you?” She smirked at Tom.

“What’s that?”

“The plane, when Dad rescued you from the Germans.”

“Oh… yes. I still have his cap. And his medals. I should show you sometime.” He smiled ignorantly, sipping his tea.

“I know, they’re all in your room in the home. He won’t part with them.” She sighed. Fanny stood quietly, gesturing to the Captain that she was leaving before nodding as he nodded back at her, taking up the third and final space on the sofa on the other side of his son. Margaret continued. “I told him that I had come here to visit you, he just got it into his head that he wanted to come. Morning, noon and night. Was driving the carers up the wall.” She chuckled weakly, leaning forward to look at the Captain. “He might not seem like he knows what’s happening, but he’ll remember. I know it all seems very strange.”

The Captain shook his head.

“I just… I’m glad he’s here. I just wish I could… you know? Talk to him? He doesn’t remember me.” Maggie sighed, shaking her head before leaning into Tom’s ear.

“Do you remember that song that your father used to sing non-stop? The very model of-“

“A modern major general, I’ve information vegetable, animal and mineral.” Tom almost parroted back, a wide smile on his face as he recalled the song. “He used to sing that when I was angry he had to go for training and I wouldn’t talk.” He laughed, drumming his fingers on the cup. “He also used to sing…um…” he clicked his fingers, before bringing them to his head, scratching as he tried to recall the song, unaware of his father watching him like a hawk. “That man who played the ukulele…George Formby.” Margaret shook her head confused.

“I don’t know which song you’re talking about, Sweetheart.”

“Yes you do. It was on the wireless when you were making dinner…” he shifted in his seat, getting a little agitated at forgetting. The captain’s brow furrowed, mouthing the name of the singer before his eyes went wide.

“Our Sergeant Major?” he offered clueless, Margaret repeating the song title back at Tom.

“No! It was another one. That woman you don’t like sung it as well.” If it were possible, a lightbulb would have went off above the Captain’s head.

“Bless ‘em all. It’s Bless ‘em all! Vera Lynn!” he clapped his hands, gesturing her to ask him.

“It would be Vera sodding Lynn. Was it Bless ‘em all?” She sighed, snorting as Thomas nodded the name finally ringing home.

“How the hell did he remember that? He would have been two when that came out.” The Captain laughed, shaking his head. “Though I didn’t realise I sang so much. Oh dear” he coughed, clearing his throat as he sat back on the sofa, one arm laying along the backrest in an unusually relaxed manner.

They sat like that for hours and, despite the strange circumstances in that he could only converse fully with his wife, and the rather melancholy notion that his now elderly son was slowly losing his mind, the Captain found himself happier than he had been in decades. A small smile remained planted under his moustache as he watched Thomas try to recall certain memories from the photo album Maggie had brought.

Occasionally, he and Margaret would share a knowing glance, the pair of them exchanging a warm smirk as Thomas let slip something he probably would have gotten in trouble for back in the day. The Captain already knew his son was an adventurous boy, yet he found himself surprised to be amused at how unruly he was when he was a teen. They were of course, eventually joined by Robin who had overheard and ignored Fanny when she was advising Kitty not to intrude on the family. The caveman sat cross-legged and alert on the floor, his eyes watching both of them closely and not even the Captain could bring himself to tell him to leave.

Eventually though, Margaret pulled back with a reluctant sigh, a trembling hand lifting as she looked at her watch. _She looks tired._ The Captain thought to himself. “Everything alright Maggie?”

“Huh? Yes, yes. It’s just getting late… I need to get Tom back to the nursing home else they’ll have me up for kidnap.” She chuckled sadly.

“We can stay here, we don’t have to go back.” Thomas started, “You promised!”

“I did no such thing… Tom, we agreed. No arguments…please. We’ve had such a nice day. D-Don’t… please don’t be difficult.” She sighed, shuffling to stand up, her hand moving to her mouth as she coughed. “Now I’m going to the bathroom, and then get Alison to phone us a taxi.” She sniffed, patting Tom’s leg as she struggled to her feet.

“No!”

“Thomas, _please!”_

“Don’t send me back there!”

Margaret paused, closing her eyes as she stood, trying to steady her nerves. Both the Captain and Robin looked at each other helplessly, before the officer stood, one hand hovering over his wife’s back as he leaned into her ear, forgetting that Thomas couldn’t hear him.

“Maggie, I-I… if he really wants to stay I’m sure I could have a word with Alison…” He frowned, “I’m sure you’d be both welcome.” He was answered with a dejected sigh as she looked up at him, the pain evident in her eyes despite her struggle to remain resolute.

“W-we can’t. William, I can’t look after him anymore, a-and I know how difficult he can be. H-he… I can’t put that on Alison and Michael. He needs his medication, s-so do I.” she huffed shakily. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” She moved away from him, stick thudding quietly on the floorboards as she hobbled towards the door.

“I go. You stay. I-I get Alison to help.” Robin grunted, pointing in Thomas’ direction before following the elderly woman. The Captain turned, watching as Thomas shook his head, hands wringing together anxiously as he looked around.

“Surely the nursing home can’t be that bad.” He sighed, sitting down beside his son again. “Three square meals a day, no screaming children running around. No housework.” He chuckled weakly, studying his face concerned despite his forced jovial tone. “It’s just rest isn’t it? You’ve earned it. Especially after everything you’ve achieved.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

“What!?” His eyebrow shot up, staring confused, yet Thomas had fallen silent, lost once more in his own thoughts. “I never left, Tom. I’ve been here the whole time. Just please…” The Captain sighed, his head dropping to stare at the floor. “I wish there was a way I could make you understand.”

“Mum’s going to leave me as well… I can see it in her. The same way I see it in those corpses in the home. They’re all ghosts. Staring. Just waiting. She’s sick. She won’t tell me but I can see it. The same way I saw it in you before you died.” Thomas sniffed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I know my mind’s not what it was… I can’t help it. The drugs stop me thinking. Just turns me into one of those… it’s a prison. Get up when I’m told, drugs, eat when I’m told, more drugs, sleep when I’m told. If I argue, more drugs. If I try to tell Mum, or Jenny, or Will…” He shuddered, shaking his head as his fingers continued to wring themselves into knots

The Captain stared at him in shock, struggling to take in what he was hearing, his expression turning stony.

“We’ll get you out of there. I promise. I know you can’t hear me. But I promise son, I’ll speak to your mother. Get you some place new.” He stood, watching Thomas for a moment before marching through the hall, immediately spotting Margaret sitting on a stool in the kitchen, glass of water in hand. “Now look here, I appreciate you cannot look after him anymore given your condition. But Thomas really needs to get put into a new home. He’s not happy there!”

“I know.” Maggie puffed, tissue to her lips as she shakily placed the glass on the table, her face pale.

“You know? So why is he still in there?!”

“B-because it’s not as easy as taking him and p-putting him in another one. H-he needs to be assessed, for one. There’s also money. Jenny, his daughter, is his power of attorney and sh-she thinks he’s getting th-the best care th-there is.” She sniffed, shrugging defeated. “I-I’m trying my best.”

“Well try harder then!”

“Captain please!” Alison huffed, moving from the fridge to beside Maggie protectively. “Can’t you see she’s taken a turn? It’ll get sorted, but for god’s sake.”

The senior officer stood helplessly as he looked between Margaret and Alison, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

“I’m going to take this cup of tea through to Thomas and keep him company. Maggie when you’re feeling a bit better I’ll phone that Taxi for you, alright?” She nodded at Alison quietly, before looking up at her husband ashamed.

“He just wanted t-to come to the house again. I-I didn’t think it would be a problem.” She coughed again, sniffing as she sat back in the chair. The Captain’s stubbornness broke.

“Don’t be silly. Of course it’s not a problem.” He sighed, observing her closely. “He says you’re sick.”

“He says a lot of things.”

“Tell me. Please? Is that why you came?”

She didn’t answer for a minute, her gaze fixed on the door of the stove. There was a grunt, an audible crack as he crouched down in front of her, his expression and tone softer and full of concern.

“Maggie?”

“I-I just wanted to see you… I-I didn’t know if you’d be here. J-just wanted to set things straight between us.” Her lip wobbled, almost immediately covered by the tissue in her hand.

“But you are sick.” She nodded quickly.

“I just needed to see you. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye before…”

The Captain stood at his bedroom window as he watched the taxi pull away with Maggie and Thomas inside, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. He sniffed quietly, looking away as he lost sight of the vehicle before freezing as he spotted Julian hovering by his door.

“Spying doesn’t suit you.” He shot at him bitterly, his swagger stick pressed against his back as he wandered over to his arm chair in the corner of the room.

“Does it not? Always fancied myself a James Bond type, mostly for the girls, I’ll admit, but I did love the sense of adventure he brought.” The politician chuckled quietly, stepping further into the room as he studied the Captain. “She’s a tough old bird, your wife. She’ll be back.”

“I wasn’t aware that I had asked for your opinion.” Came the tired response. The Captain rest his elbow on the arm of his chair, fingers pinching at his nose. _Piss off Julian._

“I’m a politician. You don’t have to, I’ll force it down your throat regardless.” There was a creak as Julian sat on the end of the bed. “….I’m not sure I want to see Margot again. Not after what happened. Especially how it happened.” He made a face, fingers moving to straighten his tie. “But it’s clear that Maggie dotes on you, even after all these years. That’s nothing short of a miracle, especially given what happened between you…” He trailed off, noticing the challenging glare his friend was now giving him. “News travels…and I did say I fancied myself a James Bond type.” He sniffed, shrugging. “Look I’m not judging. Look at me, I _can’t_ judge” He gestured lamely at his half naked attire before extending a hand, pointing at the captain with his middle knuckle like he was about to make a speech. “But you loved her, didn’t you? Perhaps not in the traditional sense but it was there.”

The Captain paused, thinking about it for a moment before nodding.

“And she loves you, enough to come back to see you, accept you as you are _and_ let you see your son, who also loves you.” He stood up, straightening his tie and the Captain stared up at him a little taken back by his words. “Even if the world ends tomorrow, and all that’s left is us sorry individuals. At least you know that. Keep that memory and keep it close.”

“I will, Julian.” The officer cleared his throat, stretching his head back to readjust. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He wandered towards the adjoining wall that separated the pair’s bedrooms before pausing. “Seriously, don’t. I don’t want Thorne to get wind that I’ve somehow turned into the Dalai Lama, I’ll never get a minutes peace.”


	10. Colin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 1943  
A bit of time with Colin and the flu hits the Parker household

** _ February 1943 _ **

The Captain hummed as he stirred his sugar into his tea, delicately tapping the spoon against the rim of the china cup to stop any drips, before tossing it into the sink. He sniffed, mumbling appreciatively under his breath as he picked up the cup, newspaper tucked up under his pyjama clad elbow before retreating back through towards the bedroom, stopping as he spotted Colin wandering towards him.

“Ah, you’re up. I took the liberty of making a pot, it’s still warm if you want some.” He smiled, eyebrow raising as Colin leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “And good morning to you.” He chuckled, before making a grunt of complaint as the newspaper was stolen from his loose grip.

“Mine. You know I hate it when you get to it before I do… you leave the corners all dog eared and horrible.” Colin pouted, swatting him gently with the edge of the paper. “I’m going into the living room to listen to the wireless anyway, hopefully there’s some good news on the lads in France. We’re already beating them in Russia.”

“Yes, well. It’s about time things turned in our favour.” The Captain tilted his head as he watched Colin disappear into the kitchen. “I’ll put it on. Oh and there’s some toast there as well!” He called through.

“So I see! Thank you!”

Immediately as Colin sat down, a slice of his toast was swiped off his plate, his quiet cry of protest ignored as the Captain ate happily, settled back on the couch.

“I was looking forward to that!”

“Well you can look forward to the other two pieces you’ve got instead. I’ve got to work after this tea, the Major’s wanting my paperwork up at Button House by noon. So you’ll have peace to have as much toast as you want.” He smiled coyly, ignoring the few buttery crumbs on his moustache as he chewed, delighting in the fact he was mildly irritating the younger soldier.

“Will you be returning back here after?” Colin shifted, blond head tilting to rest on the Captains shoulder, his socked feet coming up to rest on the seat. The Captain looked down, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just you’ve been here for five days now…”

“I… if I’m outstaying my welcome you only need to say, Col’.” He pulled back a little, “I thought you were okay with this?”

“I-I am. I am. More than okay. I love having you here. Y’know despite the snoring that could wake the dead, you stealing my newspaper and not to mention your _incessant_ whistling when you’re in the bath…” He looked up, curls being crushed between his head and the Captain’s shoulder as he gave him a playful grin which widened as he realised he had hit the Captain’s penchant for over thinking things.

The officer frowned, his brow furrowed as he tried to read Colin’s mixed signals. “I-If you want me to leave, you only need to say…”

There was a sigh, Colin’s plate gently clunking on the table before the Captain had to lean back as he clambered onto his lap. Two hands rough hands cupped his jaw before lips melted against his own, soon kissing away his anxiety.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m only toying with you.” It was all the Captain could do but look up at him, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip. He could taste strawberry jam and the faint hint of that cigarette from the night before. His hands rest on Colin’s hips, pulling him in closer. The younger soldier didn’t complain. Instead fingers found their way into his hair as they shared another tender kiss, their chests pressing together firmly as they each sought out contact in their own way. Eventually though, Colin pulled back for breath. “Y-you should go home though…” The Captain’s face fell, reality knocking on the door in his mind which the blond immediately picked up on. “E-even if it’s just for a few. I don’t want you to, b-but…” He swallowed thickly. “I-I’ll still be here for you.”

The Captain sighed, his grip on Colin’s waist relaxing as he lifted a hand to his face, rubbing it hard.

“Yes… yes you’re right.” He nodded, the familiar knot in his stomach twisting for the first time in almost a week. “She’ll be worried sick. Especially after that business in London last weekend.” He groaned again, struggling not to let his emotions bubble too close to the surface. Yet his reluctance to return home was causing him severe frustration.

“I-I didn’t realise things were that bad.” He could feel Colin’s palm on his cheek again, a concerned thumb stroking along his jawline. He shook his head.

“That’s the thing. They’re not.” He shrugged, opening his eyes to look at Colin, the guilt etched across his face. “In every sense of the word I’m a happily married father. Maggie is, without a question, the best wife, best mother, best friend I could ever ask for…”

“But you don’t love her.”

“I do.” He winced as he felt Colin recoil a little. “Love is a very complicated thing, Colin. I don’t know how to explain it. She’s the mother of my son. And I care for her deeply, very deeply but not in the way a husband should. Not in the way she deserves.” He sniffed, looking away. “Not in the same way I care for you. She never asked for this, didn’t ask for me to be this way. I pushed her into marriage. I _thought _I was doing the right thing. For both of us, that I could force the feelings I had to one side and make the feelings I had for her into the ones she needed.” His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Do you feel like you made a mistake? Marrying her?”

“I don’t know… maybe? I should never have trapped her… but I look at our son, and I see how happy he makes her, and how happy he makes me. I… I could never regret him… even if he has taken to screaming morning noon and night at the slightest inconvenience.” He closed his eyes, forcing a weak chuckle, which gladly he found Colin had joined in on.

“He’s two… besides, look who his father is. The stubbornness is clearly hereditary.” He teased, leaning down to peck the Captain’s lips again. “Why are you still here and not with your family.”

“You know why…” The laughter had subsided, the captain reaching for Colin’s hand, squeezing it gently. “With you, I don’t need a mask. I can be myself. You… I…” he puffed, struggling to put it into words. He looked up helplessly and the fair haired private’s shoulders dropped a little, before scooping the taller man closer into his chest for a tight hug, his lips pressing against his forehead, then his lips.

“I love you too, I just wish the world was different and we could be more open about it.”

“No.” The Captain pulled back quickly, shaking his head firmly. “Regardless of how the world is after the war, Maggie and Thomas never find out. This isn’t their mess or yours, it’s mine, and my burden to bear.”

“Then stop hiding here, and go see them.” Colin sniffed, climbing off of his lap to sit beside him, his hand remaining on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. But you’re punishing them, Thomas in particular for something that is only natural. And I’m not going to stand here and let a child go without a father.” He tried to smile reassuringly, squeezing the captain’s shoulder gently. “I wish things were different. Less complicated. But it is what it is, and I have to make do. I’m fine with the occasional overnight stay, but you hiding here for a week at a time. No wonder Thomas is screaming if he doesn’t understand what’s going on. And Maggie… she didn’t ask to be a mother yet you’re forcing her to raise a child on her own.” He struggled getting the words out, having to think with his head for once instead of his heart. “We’ve been like this for over two years, Will. Think sensibly. You know I’m not going anywhere…”

As the Captain wandered back down to his row of cottages, his heart felt complicatedly lighter. _This might actually work out._ He sniffed, squinting in the early afternoon winter sun, rays glinting off his rapidly greying hair, before approaching his own little cottage that had been his home for the last 10 years. Over the last 3 years of marriage, Maggie, to her credit, had somehow managed to turn it from the rather sparse bachelor hovel he had kept it in, to something that might have been found on the front of one of those jigsaw puzzles you always found in the newsagents. He smirked, admiring one of the honey suckle bushes that dangled over the garden fence. _Colin has the same in his garden. _He noted, one hand resting on the gate latch.

“Afternoon Captain Parker!” He looked up confused, relaxing a little as he saw his neighbour Mr Watson trying to dig up their excuse for a flowerbed. “That you back from training?”

“Hello, Jim, yes. What are you planting this time?” He craned his neck up, trying to nosey at what he had in his wheelbarrow.

“Carrots. We’ve all got to do something for the war effort, eh.” He puffed up proudly, either ignoring or blissfully unaware of the dry smirk that crossed the Captains mouth.

“Quite. Although I believe military service, not vegetables, might be more useful giving the state of things…hmm?” He raised an eyebrow. It was a well-known fact that Jim Watson had been avoiding the draft of mandatory military service on the premise that he had a bad back. “That wheelbarrow looks frightfully heavy…”

“It’s not too bad.” He replied a little too quickly. “Listen, while I’ve got you. Mrs Watson has gotten herself into a dreadful state on account of your Thomas. Is he alright? Only you know what she’s like, and she was only telling me last night that Sergeant Blenkinsop was seen helping your Mrs Parker down the road after she fainted at the Post Office. Said she looked like a ghost, she did.” The Captain stared at him. “Dreadful case of that flu going around. I hope the Sergeant hasn’t caught it off them, I’ve got to play bridge with him on Wednesday…”

“Quite. I’m sure they’re fine. Still…must dash. Check on the troops so to speak.” He chuckled nervously, glancing at the front door. “Maybe Mrs Watson wouldn’t mind making us some carrot soup, once their finished growing.” He sniffed, before quickly disappearing inside the house.

“Maggie? Tom? I’m home” He called out, a little concerned at the quietness of the cottage until he heard coughing coming from the kitchen. “Mags?” He cautiously walked further in, shivering as he felt the slight chill in the air until he heard Margaret’s hoarse voice calling him. “Ah there you are, Jim next door said you weren’t well. Do you want me to go get- Oh hello.” He was stopped in his tracks by a very small and shivery Thomas who stood in the doorway to his bedroom. The Captain bent down, making a face as he examined the pale face and red, streaming nose. “Yes… I think the doctor Jessop would be a good idea. Come on. There’s a good chap.” He clapped his hands, scooping the toddler into his arms and stood, one hand pressed to the boys forehead before sighing. “Let’s go get you a handkerchief shall we? Clean that snotty beak of yours.”

“Hhyeah.” Came the squeaky reply, Thomas’ head resting on his father’s shoulder before coughing harshly.

“Has Doctor Jessop not seen him yet? Poor boy looks ghastly.” He set Thomas down in his chair in the kitchen, hand going to his pocket to pull out a handkerchief to wipe his nose.

“H-He can’t come till Tuesday” The Captain looked up at the voice, eyes going wide.

“Good god Maggie! No. Sit, come on.” He moved around the table, pulling her away from the stove. “No. Tuesday will not do. How long have the pair of you been like this?” He glanced at Thomas as his hand went to her forehead. “You’re both burning up.”

“Couple of days after you went away. I think I gave it to Tom.” She coughed again croakily, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. I think it’s just a cold. How was training? We tried to surprise you up at Button House yesterday.” The Captain froze.

“It was successful… Maggie, you know you shouldn’t be up there. Military-“

“-Intelligence, sensitive information. Highly dangerous. I know. But he wanted his dad and I couldn’t tell him otherwise.” She sniffed, “Besides, they said you weren’t there. Guess it was a field trip.” She shrugged, eyes narrowing as she looked up at him before sighing. “You’re back now, that’s the main thing.” She moved to stand up, her hand suddenly finding his arm to keep her balance.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You are going to bed, both of you. And I’m going to get one of our doctors down instead. This isn’t just a cold.”

The Captain sat up in bed later that evening, Thomas cuddled up against his chest, his legs dangling either side of his hips. He wasn’t completely comfortable, but it was the only way he could get the toddler to settle and that, for him, was the main thing. One hand stroked through the boys hair, damp with sweat. _I should have been here. _He sniffed, pressing a kiss to his forehead before allowing his gaze to drop to his other hand which was tangled in his wife’s red curls, her head tucked in neatly under his arm. He blinked, suddenly very aware he was being watched by two large green eyes.

“How long have you been awake for?”

“A few minutes.” Maggie replied weakly. “Was just making sure you hadn’t disappeared into the night again." There was a sad smile, and the all too familiar kick to his gut was back.

“I won’t be disappearing again for a while, not unless I’m posted to the main war. I promise…” he swallowed, wincing as he shifted to adjust his back. “Maybe the odd night or two when I’m on nightshift. But nothing like what’s been happening.” Maggie sighed, nodding as she attempted to cuddle back in.

“I hope she was worth it.”

“What?!” Despite his whispering to save Tom waking up, the boy grunted, wriggling to get comfy. “Maggie… there is no other woman.”

“I know you weren’t on training… I spoke to Blenkinsop.” The Captain swallowed, looking around helplessly before he sighed.

“Two seconds, not with…” He moved the boy in his arms, struggling to peel back the duvet as he crept through to the nursery before hurrying back in, the door being left open in case Thomas stirred. “Listen to me. Whatever Blenkinsop might have said… there is no woman.” He stared at her, making a mental note to have a stern word with the Sergeant the next time he saw him. _Poking his nose in for his own gain no doubt. He’s always been after her ever since they were at school together. _Maggie coughed again, shaking her head.

“I don’t understand. Why would you lie and say you were on training?” He winced, her broken voice making her seem even more fragile than the flu could ever have done. The officer shifted, shuffling down under the covers and tugged her into his chest. “I can’t tell you where I was. You just have to believe me. But I promise you, alright? I have no interest in any other women. No matter what that conniving….git has to say.” He puffed, pulling back to look at her.

“I-is this…was it a mission thing? I-is that why you can’t say?” He watched her face for a long moment, one hand reaching to push her hair away from her clammy forehead. _I’m going to live to regret this. She deserves to know the truth. What then? You ruin her, you put yourself and Colin’s lives in danger. Thomas lives without a father. No. Keep it as it is._

“….yes…”

“Were you in danger?” Her eyes went wide, fear rippling across her features.

“No. No I wasn’t in danger. But I can’t tell you about it Maggie. You just have to believe me.” He swallowed again, watching as she attempted to settle down, yet bile began to rise in his own stomach at once again having to lie to her. _This is for the best…isn’t it?_

“I can’t bear the thought of you having to do that… what if you get sent away? Wh-what if… what if I don’t get a chance to say goodbye?”

“Shhhhh.” He shook his head, pulling her back into his chest. “Stop it. Please. I-I promise you. Even if I have to drag myself across Nazi Germany, we’ll get our chance.” He sniffed, kissing the side of her head. “Now please rest, the doctor said you needed to. There’s not going to be any goodbye’s tonight.”


	11. Goodnight Sweet Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Captain waits for Alison to return with Maggie...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the hardest chapters I've ever had to write. I'm hoping I've done justice but just as a warning this chapter contains some pretty heavy feels. I don't think there's any full on trigger warnings needed but if you think there is, then give me a shout and I'll insert them.  
-Crowe-

** _Friday 0900hrs_ **

The Captain sighed as he phased through the front door, his shoulders rolling as he silently congratulated himself on a patrol of the estate well done. He sniffed, looking up at the clock in the hallway. _9am, on schedule._ A small smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, swagger stick swing being bounced in his hand as he marched into the common room.

“Ah there you are Patrick. Anything to report from the plague pit?” He clicked his heels, watching the scout master expectantly.

“No, not really. Oh- they have requested that the light gets kept on for an extra 20 minutes each day, especially with it getting dark so early now.” He fidgeted with his arrow, the captain squinting.

“Pat… It’s _always _dark in there…” He mumbled, fighting hard not to roll his eyes. “They’re in the basement.”

“Well yeah, I know. I did think it was a weird request. B-but they don’t ask for much really. So what harm is a bit of light going to do?”

“Very well. I’ll pose it to Alison later once Maggie goes home. Alison has gone to fetch her hasn’t she?” Pat nodded.

“Yep. Her and Mike left at half 8. They said they had to stop off at the supermarket first, but they’ll get to Maggie’s around 10 and depending on traffic they’ll arrive here about 11.” He smiled, having to crane his head back to look up at the officer who nodded, rocking back on his heels. “H-how was your patrol?”

“Good, nothing to report. Thorne is still in the lake after his argument with Mary. 72 hours is a bit severe, even by his standards… but he assures me he’s not coming out. So I wager we’ll expect him around dinner time tomorrow.”

“And if we don’t?” Pat winced, turning to see if he could spy the poet through the window.

“Well he won’t be bothering anyone if he’s in the lake. So I wouldn’t say it’s an issue. We’ll see him when we see him” The Captain shrugged.

** _Friday 1130hrs_ **

“No sign?”

The Captain flinched a little, having been stood at the window for the last 40 minutes. He looked up to see Fanny standing by the door.

“No. No sign… They were concerned about the traffic. So that’s probably caused a delay.” He nodded, tapping his stick against his hand as he turned back to the window. “People out Christmas shopping.”

“I suppose you’re right. That being said, Alison is a terrible driver and I do say to her that a Lady should always arrive promptly. It’s only courteous.” There was a quiet sigh.

“I quite agree, Fanny. But Michael was driving.”

“Oh… oh well I suppose it is traffic then.” She paused, stepping beside him to look out the window. “Why don’t you take a break from watching? If they are delayed you’ll only make time go slower. I can get Robin or Julian? I’m sure one of them would be up for a game of chess?” She looked up, lips pursing. “That and you’re making the place look untidy just standing around. Alison just hoovered that rug last night… Mind you, you wouldn’t think of it to look at it would you.”

“Fanny?”

“Yes Captain?”

“Go away.” There was a sharp gasp, and the Captain cringed as he realised how blunt he had been. “I-I don’t mean it badly. I just want to wait. In peace. They’ll be here shortly.” He tried to sound gentler, and he thought for a moment that Fanny was about to explode by the way she looked at him.

She didn’t. _Thank god._ Instead exhaling quietly and nodding as she wandered off.

** _Friday 1215hrs_ **

“Whys are you sitting there fors?”

The Captain turned at the voice to see Mary a few steps above him.

“What was that?”

“You sees nothings on the stairs.” She paused as she reached the step below him, her eyes wide and curious.

“He’s waiting on Alison coming back. How longs it been now?”

“An hour and 15.” The captain mumbled, eyebrow raising as he looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Right. And how long have I been stuck down here for?” Humphrey huffed, his nose wrinkling as he attempted to drag his disembodied head so he could see the targets of his conversation.

“For about 6 hours…”

“Mrs Captain likes tea, doesn’t she?” His brow furrowed as he looked up at Mary.

“Erm. Her name is Margaret, Mary… but yes. What’s that got to do with anything?” He shook his head confused.

“Well, maybes theys is havin’ teas. An’that’s whys they haven’t got here yet.” The officer contemplated this for a moment, cocking his head as he rolled it around in his head.

“That’s… actually a rather good suggestion Mary. None of them are plural, obviously. But yes, it does make sense. Thank you.” He sniffed, feeling a little more reassured. _Perfect sense. No sense in rushing when you have the full day together. Besides, they’re probably just trying to avoid the lunch time traffic. _Mary beamed, watching as he stood up.

“Happy to helps. D-does this means you’re going to stop mopin’?” She paused, immediately regretting her words at his raised eyebrow.

“I-I wasn’t moping. My back was getting sore standing at the window.” He huffed as he heard Humphrey let out a loud laugh. “I wasn’t!”

“Yeah right, we’ll find you sitting at Thomas’ sighing place at this rate.” The Tudor head chuckled, before realising he wasn’t getting the reaction he was looking for. Which was any reaction at all. “Oh come on that was funny. Guys? Hello?” He sighed, realising both Mary and the Captain had left. “Typical.”

** _Friday 1445hrs_ **

“How long has it been now?” Julian spoke through gritted teeth and a hushed voice at Kitty who was sat somewhat anxiously beside him.

“Almost two hours.” She glanced at him concerned. “Oh I do hope something hasn’t happened. It’s awful sitting waiting. He said I could meet her today.” She fiddled with her hands in her lap, watching as the Captain about turned and wandered back across the room, his eyes fixed on the windows. “There’s probably a good reason for them being late. M-maybe Margaret’s bringing someone else? Like she brought Tom last time. Maybe it’s another family member. O-or another friend? Or maybe they went out for dinner before coming here?” She smiled brightly. “Alison would have said if something had happened. Called or something.”

Julian raised an eyebrow, his lip curling as he fought the urge to ask who exactly Alison would have hoped would have answered the telephone before shaking his head. He stood, hand moving to adjust his shirt sleeves before clearing his throat.

“Captain. Chess?” He asked chirpily, “Robin’s gone AWOL, and I quite fancy a game myself. And I can tell you about the time I once beat the Russian ambassador at squash.” He smirked, looking at Kitty. “So what do you say…oh.” He frowned, watching as a flash of khaki green disappeared round the door and out of sight.

** _ Friday 1735hrs _ **

The captain sat quietly, his eyes fixed on the dark lawn, ears alert for any sign of movement on the gravel. The sun had been set for over an hour and still there was no sign of Maggie, Alison or Michael. _There’s got to be a logical reason behind this. It’s senseless worrying. The car might have broken down. It is frightfully cold tonight though. They have heaters in cars now don’t they? You’d have heard if something was wrong. You’d have felt something at least._

He became suddenly aware of a presence beside him, and Robin sat down on the fountain to his right. He looked up, staring at him numbly for a moment before looking back at the grass.

“I don’t want to talk. They’ll be here.”

“Me neither. They be here soon. Mike. Bad driver. Kim Wilde. Also bad. Maggie… probably bad too.” The Caveman grunted quietly. “Good reason for being late.”

They sat silently for a moment, the Captains fingers starting to twitch around his stick awkwardly as it lay across his thighs.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Was in woods. Play chess for bit. Now here.” He sniffed, shooting a cautious glance at him. “You want me to go?”

“No. No point.” His voice was flat, his brow furrowed as he continued to stare straight ahead.

“Good.”

They fell silent for a few more minutes until the sound of loud sniffles shook Robin from his trance like state. “Urgh… Thomas back.”

“Well it’s nice to see no one cared enough to rouse me from the watery depths of the lake!” Thorne wailed as he stalked up the path at the side of the house. “Three days. Three long days and nights I wept there. And do you know why?”

“Thomas… now not good time…” Robin hissed, trying to subtly gesture towards the Captain.

“Well I’ll tell you.” He stopped just in front of them, one hand on his hip as the other flailed out, sleeve billowing in the air. “None of you. And I mean not one single individual in this house. Appreciates the hard work, the blood, sweat and tears that I put into my art. Not one!” He threw his hand down, pausing for dramatic effect. Robin sighed, moving to stand up.

“Come. You can tell me all ‘bout it. Captain not want to talk now.” He moved closer, grabbing the regency bard’s arm to haul him to one side. He shot a glance at the Captain who made no effort to show that he had barely registered that Thorne had presented himself before he found himself chasing the younger man back to the house.

** _Friday 2110hrs_ **

The sound of gravel under tyres finally crunched it’s way through the darkness, and the Captain found himself leaping to his feet. He sniffed, one hand raising to his eye to rub it as he peered through the glare of the headlights to get a glimpse of the blacked out interior. As it turned to park along side the rose bushes, he saw a glimpse of Alison’s red bobble hat and yellow jacket. _Finally! I mean it’s 11 hours later than agreed but better late than never! _He caught himself smiling, moving to step forward until Alison caught his eye. _She’s been crying…_ He froze, suddenly rooted to the spot as he watched Mike climb out the car first slowly followed by Alison out the front passenger side. _Maggie where are you? What’s happened? _

The brunette smiled weakly, hands moving into her pockets before turning to face the Captain. He sniffed, straightening up as she began to approach him, deciding to front his confusion out.

“And what time do you call this? You better have a jolly good explanation for this young lady. 1100hrs I was told. No word! No message! The others have been going out of their mind. Where is she?”

Alison stared at him, her hands still in her pockets as she waited for him to stop, her teeth chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Captain, do you want to sit down.” She pushed her hand further into her pocket, trying to point to the fountain. _She sounds nervous. And rightly so. Bloody cheek of it!_

“No I do not. I’ve been sitting here since 3 o’clock! I want answers! If Maggie’s changed her mind about coming I want to know!” Alison closed her eyes, wincing a little at his tone and had to bite her lip. “Well out with it then! Come on!” His stick was shaking in his hand, the point waving dangerously close to her face.

“C-Captain… Maggie _died_ at about four this afternoon.” She swallowed thickly, her leg jiggling nervously as she watched his face. “Sh-she wanted to come. She did. I promise! Sh-She… We got to her house late because of the traffic a-and the ambulance was already there. Will had phoned for it b-because her breathing was really bad, sh-she was getting chest pains and he was panicking a-and he was on his own with her so w-we went along with him to the hospital.” She sniffed, head tilting back as she tried to compose herself against the Captain’s stunned silence. “Th-they got her stable f-for a time, a-and all she k-kept saying was that she had to come h-here because you were waiting. M-made me write y-you a letter…”

She pulled her hand out her pocket, holding a folded bit of paper out helplessly as though it was her only evidence she wasn’t lying.

“I-I was going to leave Mike with Will and come back here to try and video call or phone or j-just explain things b-but… she just… there wasn’t enough time… sh-she just died… I-I’m so sorry... Captain I tried my best.” She sniffled, raising her free hand to wipe the tears from her face.

The Captain blinked, trying to process everything he had been told, his stance faltering as he stepped back unsurely.

“M-maggie’s dead? M-my Maggie?” He squinted, swagger stick dropping to his side. “Y-you’re quite sure?” He sniffed as he watched Alison nod. “A-and Will…?”

“H-he’s staying with his uncle for the time being. H-he’s not talking to his mum and his boyfriend is in America for the week.” He nodded, feeling himself sink onto the fountain ledge.

“Thomas? Thomas needs to know.”

“Will’s uncle is going to go to the care home tomorrow… e-everyone who needs to know now, does.” The Captain’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean ‘needs to know now’?”

“I-it’s late, it wouldn’t be fair upsetting Tom this late at night…”

“My boy’s just lost his damn mother!!” He had flared up again, staring at Alison incredulously who had both hands raised submissively.

“I-I know, I know… a-and I know how much you’re hurting but Thomas processes things differently. He needs a clear mind and barging in at this time is only going to cause him more stress. M-Maggie wouldn’t want that.” The Captain almost snarled, reeling back a little before stepping closer.

“You don’t know a bloody thing about how I’m feeling, and don’t you _dare_ presume to tell me about what my son needs and what my wife would have wanted!”

Alison blinked, taking a defensive step back before swallowing. Her head shakily bobbed once to show she had understood.

“Yeah…you’re right. Absolutely right. I’m sorry. Um… I’ll leave this in your room… unfolded… should you want to read it. I’ll…” she sighed, lifting the letter up, her other hand being thrown out helplessly, not knowing how to better the situation. “I’ll get the others to leave you alone to give you some breathing space. But y’know what they’re like… no promises.” She paused, watching as he turned away, his hand moving up to rub his face. “I am sorry, Captain.”

** ** ** **

** _Saturday 0200hrs_ **

The Captain blinked as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his body rigid as is lay on his pristine bed, swagger stick held firmly across his hips. In the hallway, the dull tick of the grandfather clock counted the seconds that passed to whoever was unlucky enough to hear them.

He sniffed, turning his head to face the bedside table. A single runaway tear slipped down the side of his cheek before vanishing into the ether as it dripped from his face. Alison had remained true to her word, propping Margaret’s letter up against the lamp. Beside it, she had taken the liberty to place one of the photographs he had been given. Taken shortly before Tom’s fourth birthday. In it his small, dysfunctional family stood beaming at the camera, uncaring about the horrors of 1944, and blissfully unaware of the catastrophic mess that their husband and father was about to leave them in.

His throat tightened, swallowing hard as he allowed his eyes to move back to the letter.

_“My Dearest William,_

_I am so sorry I’m having to get Alison to write this for me, but I fear I won’t be able to make my visit today. I’m not feeling quite myself. The doctors are trying, but maybe we could arrange for some time when I get out? Christmas would be nice._

_If I don’t, I want you to know that you are loved. By Tom, Colin wherever he is, but most of all by me. _

_I’ve been sick for a long time, Will, and I’m tired. I’ve faced death so many times now with strokes and a heart attack. I figured after I was diagnosed the only thing keeping me here was you. That was why I came to the house that day. To bury the hatchet and move on. And now death is finally staring me in the face, I want more time. I want our time that was stolen from us when you died._

_The irony of all of this is that I still don’t get my goodbye… _

_One of my biggest regrets is that I loved you too much that I couldn’t let you go, that I couldn’t free you from your own shackles of feeling in some way obligated to look after me. Maybe that’s why you remained at the house for all these years- I don’t know. If it is, please find some peace in that you no longer have that burden. My darling Will, you don’t have to keep fighting, your war is over._

_Till we meet again,_

_Yours then, now and forever,_

_Maggie x”_

There was an exhale of breath, then a sharp inhale as the captain turned away, his eyes closed as he curled up on the bed. He trembled, fighting hard to keep check of his emotions. To be a soldier. A man. Like his father taught him. Like he was supposed to teach Thomas.

A loud choking noise forced itself from his throat, his hand moving to cover his mouth to silence the noise but it bit back hard, the tears breaking the dam he had worked so hard to keep sturdy over the last few hours.

An arm found its way round his shoulders and he froze, breathing ragged and afraid before he felt a hand on his hair. Non-threatening and soothing. He was gently pulled up, his head being pushed into a shoulder to hide his face, the scent of lavender and rosewater hitting his senses.

“Shhh. It’s alright.” Fanny sniffed, adjusting her dress as she sat beside him. “You’re not alone.” She rocked gently, both arms wrapped firmly around his broad frame. “She was a fine woman… a lady. And she loved you so very, very much. And she knew that in your own way, you loved her.” She sniffed, pulling her face back to look at him as he lifted his head to protest. She shook her head, motherly instinct forcing her to wipe his face. “She did. I promise. She wouldn’t have come back here if she didn’t.”

The Captain nodded, his breathing ragged as he allowed himself to be pulled in for another hug, one arm reaching to cling to Fanny to seek some form of comfort in his grief.


	12. Maggie...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of Maggie's memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out!  
Had to take a bit of a breather after the last update, but normal service should be resumed.
> 
> As always comments and kudos are hugely appreciated!  
-Crowe-

_ **1930 – Age 9** _

“Owwww Jeremy!” Maggie whined, struggling to push herself up off the gravel path, a large scowl across her face as she glared at the culprit who had accidentally pushed her.

Beside her, Jeremy Blenkinsop panicked, his hand tugging at her arm to try and help her.

“Sorry! I didn’t think you’d fall over quite so badly! It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention…” The 9 year old sniffed, looking down at his classmate’s grubby and now scraped knees. “Should probably get your Aunty Hyacinth to put a plaster on it though… Just don’t tell her I did it otherwise my dad will give me an ear bashing aga-AH!”

He had landed hard on his backside, momentarily stunned as he looked up at Maggie from the ground. The fiery red hair blew across her face in the summer breeze, only just disguising the mischievous smirk on her lips. “That wasn’t fair!”

“Wasn’t it? Didn’t your Daddy ever tell you it’s rude to push a lady?” She grinned, holding out her hand for him. “Especially one who can push back even harder.” There was a giggle, followed by a grunt as she tried to haul the slightly overweight boy to his feet.

“You’re no lady…” He snorted, “No lady knows how to climb trees.”

“This one does.”

“Not very well. Besides, my mum says a lady should be well behaved, otherwise she’ll never get a husband. And you’re the worst behaved girl I know!” He sulked a little, one hand rubbing the now muddy seat of his shorts.

“Maybe I don’t want a husband. In fact I know I don’t!” Maggie stood defiant, flicking her unruly hair before crossing her arms. “All they do is smell, and die at wars.” There was a gasp, Blenkinsop pouting hard.

“They do not!”

“My Dad did, and my Uncle Jack. Aunt Hyacinth said. So I don’t want one.” She shrugged, foot scuffing the ground.

“Well what are you going to do then?”

“Um…” Maggie paused, watching her friend for a moment. She hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. “I don’t know… I’ll go work with Mr Jones on the farm!” There was a loud laugh, and an even louder offended glower rippled across her face.

“You can’t work on the farm, you’re a girl, Silly!”

“Fine! I-I’ll…I’ll move to London… become an actress on the stage o-or in one of those talking pictures! A-and then I’ll move to Hollywood.” She nodded stubbornly. “You’ll see. When they finish building that picture house in town. ‘Margaret Baker’. I’ll be in the credits and you’ll see.” She sniffed, raising an eyebrow, almost daring Blenkinsop to challenge her…

**1938 – Aged 17**

Maggie giggled as she left the dance floor to return to her table, giddily applauding the band who performed on the town hall stage. A brief smile was shot at Jeremy who had invited her along to the dance as his plus one, before she grinned at Sally, drink being brought to her lips as she descended into gossiping about the military types who swarmed the noisy room.

Despite leaving school 3 years previously, she still hadn’t managed to convince her Aunt to allow her to escape for London. Instead she had resigned herself to helping her Aunt around the house, and occasionally undertaking admin work for Dr Jessop at the clinic. She didn’t mind so much, choosing to spend the little free time she had to take part in the village drama club, which satiated her childhood desire for performing and offended her Aunt Hyacinth enough to amuse the rebellious redhead.

Jeremy, however, had joined the army immediately after leaving school, pressured by his father yet lacked any real interest nor ability in climbing the ranks. His lack of ambition hadn’t gone unnoticed by Maggie, who had been spurning his advances since they more or less became teenagers.

“I hear Beth has been seeing Sergeant Colt on the weekends.” Maggie gasped, finally turning away from observing the crowd to look at her friend.

“She hasn’t?” The smile on Maggie’s lips was suggestively gleeful. “I wonder what her old man would say about that! Wasn’t she supposed to be engaged to Toby?”

“Supposed to be. Although the amount of times she’s been attending Dr Jessops surgery might suggest that she could be marrying the wrong brother sometime soon.” Sally chuckled, sipping her own glass before sitting back in her chair.

“I did think I had seen her a little too regularly. Always with the cold, yet never with any symptoms…” She giggled, turning her gaze back towards the dancing crowd. As the music picked up again she felt Blenkinsop lean across the table, tapping her arm gently.

“Dance with me?” He smiled hopefully, attempting to shuffle his way across his seat to leave the table, before frowning as Maggie shook her head.

“Not right now, Jeremy. I’ve only just sat down.”

“I’ll dance…” Sally piped up, “You can buy in another round of drinks after as well if you like.”

“There you go, Jerry, no need to sit and wait for me.” Maggie grinned, shifting from her chair to allow Sally to climb out, ignoring the somewhat disappointed look on Jeremy’s face.

“O-oh… um… alright then. If you’re sure Maggie…”

“I’m quite sure, have fun!” Maggie giggled, waving the pair of them off with an amused sniff as Sally hauled Jeremy away and left her on her own.

Sally didn’t let Jeremy off the dance floor, and Maggie found herself sat at the table for almost half an hour, amusing herself with occasionally giving Jeremy a friendly wave as he blinked pleading eyes at her each time the pair passed her, or by watching the other party goers carry on in their revelry.

She could feel eyes on her, and felt her gaze being drawn up towards the bar, immediately spotting two men in officers uniforms deep in conversation. Her eyebrow raised, curiosity getting the better of her before she turned back to the crowd, having now stolen the other half of Sally’s drink, hers having been finished long ago. Her eyes flickered back to the bar and she could have sworn blind the taller of the two officers was looking in her direction before her attention was pulled away by a weak sounding “help” from Jeremy as he passed once more. She laughed, shaking her head.

“But you’re having so much fun! And getting so much exercise too!” Maggie grinned, watching as he was dragged off again on another circuit of the floor. She sniffed, draining the last of the glass before looking up at the bar, immediately making eye contact with the taller officer who suddenly turned to busy himself with his own short glass of whisky, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink much to the enjoyment of the man beside him who nudged him playfully.

Her eyebrow raised suspiciously, rolling her eyes as she looked back to her empty glass, before smirking.

She stood, quickly adjusting her dress, before wandering over to the bar, choosing to ignore the sniggers to her left. Her attention fixed on the barman, she smiled, leaning over a little. “Can I get another glass of shandy please, George?”

“Aye nae bother, Maggie! Is yer pals wanting some too?”

“No, just me this time. I think Sally’s working up Jerry’s thirst.” She laughed, before being made aware of a hand on the base of her back.

“Allow me.” Maggie looked up, spotting the older of the two officers now close to her.

“Oh, thank you but it’s quite alright. I have money.” She smiled sweetly, noticing the taller officer hanging back, watching the interaction.

“And so do I, I can at least buy a lady a drink?”

“I don’t think this lady wants your drink, Potter. For once in your life take a hint.” The younger officer interjected with a chuckle, sliding forward. “Besides, isn’t that Blenkinsop’s plus one? Bit foul play to muscle in, old chap?”

“I was only being polite, Parker.” The officer named Potter sniffed, raising an eyebrow before wandering off, almost immediately being stopped by an eager girl asking for a dance.

Maggie let out a quiet sigh of relief, handing over her coins to the barman before looking up at her rescuer.

“Thank you.”

“Not at all, he’s a good chap, a very fine soldier, but a bit… keen once he’s had a few if you catch my drift.” He smiled softly, moustache bristling as he glanced over at his friend who was now merrily dancing with the girl. His eyes narrowed a little, watching for a moment before he snapped back into reality. “Terribly sorry, where are my manners. Lieutenant Parker.” He sniffed, extending his hand politely.

“Margaret Baker, but people usually just call me Maggie.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow at his hand before reaching out to shake his gently, pulling back as he opened his mouth, pointing as though something had just reached out and grabbed him.

“Oh! Oh now I know where I know you from. Weren’t you here a few weeks ago? At the Hamlet performance? You were um…”

“On the door selling tickets… yes.” She smiled weakly. “I was supposed to be Ophelia but lost my voice.” Maggie sighed, shrugging, and the Lieutenant winced.

“Oh dear, I did wonder when I saw the programme, I am sorry.” He sighed as Maggie shrugged. “Still, I’m sure you would have been a lot better than that god awful performance that was put on. Damn woman forgot half of her lines.”

“I guess we’ll never know…” She shrugged again, sipping her fresh glass of shandy awkwardly, feeling his eyes on her. “You can take a picture if you like? It might last longer…”

“I’m sorry?”

“You keep staring at me like I’ve grown another head.” She blushed, setting her glass down.

“Do I? Good lord, sorry.” He fumbled with his own tumbler, deliberately looking towards the crowd. “I guess I’m just confused as to why you arrived with Blenkinsop this evening, yet he appears to have been hijacked by your friend. Dashed improper wouldn’t you say? Especially if you two are courti-“

“Oh we aren’t courting!” Maggie blurted out a little too quickly, laughing nervously. “Good god no. We’re childhood friends, but no.” The lieutenant smirked.

“I rather feel like he believes differently…”

“He can believe what he likes. He knows my view, even if he doesn’t agree with it.”

“Your…view?”

“He wants to get married, settle down. I much prefer my own freedom. I want to see the world! Experience life without being stuck in the house with an apron and a ball and chain around my feet.”

“I see…” Maggie wasn’t sure, but she thought the officer looked moderately impressed. “And how are you finding your freedom…” A small pout found her lips as she thought about her middling job and her Aunt who was undoubtedly cooking up a storm of chastising for when she returned him, was he mocking her? His expression suddenly changed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s a noble outlook to life, if a little too shocking for a tiny village such as this.” He smiled genuinely.

“Are you married?”

“Gosh no, it’s all a bit darned difficult in the army I’m afraid, I never quite found anyone to settle down with, nor anyone who would be willing to put up with my habits which I’ve been assured are quite tiresome.” He chuckled, and Maggie found her following his gaze to the other officer, before she noticed Sally and Jeremy still dancing, though her childhood friend was watching her and Lieutenant Parker distractedly. She sighed, setting her glass down before looking up at him with a smirk.

“Do you dance?”

“Me?? Rarely.”

“Well consider this a rare occasion. I’ve been stuck on my own watching everyone else dance for well over an hour. Come on. I won’t take no for an answer.”

**1944- Aged 23**

It had been almost four hours since they got home from the Captain’s funeral, and Maggie sat in the living room in their cottage, Thomas curled up beside her on the couch, his head in her lap as he slept. In the week since The Captain had died, this had been their usual routine, neither one of them wishing to be parted from the other. Maggie not wanting to lay alone in bed, and their four year old son not fully understanding the situation, but sensing that something seriously was amiss.

Her hand stroked gently through the boys curls, yet her expression remained blank, numbed to the events of the day, her mind hurtling through the well wishes, heartache and earth shatteringly harsh truths that had been thrown at her. Slowly, she lifted Thomas’ head, scooting out stealthily from under it before replacing her form with a pillow to keep him settled while she padded through to the kitchen, snatching up her husband’s bottle of brandy that he only kept for special occasions.

_I’d say this one was pretty special. Wouldn’t you, Will?_

The glug from the bottle was almost deafening as she tipped a sizeable measure into the glass, before she heavily dropped herself into a kitchen chair, staring at the clock on the wall.

She felt angry, though no rage swept through her. Quietly, she sniffed, bringing the glass to her lips before swallowing its contents whole, the golden liquid burning her throat and making her wince with a hiss, her eyes closing for a moment to savour the sensation.

In her mind’s eye, she could see him sitting opposite her at the table, newspaper in hand with the wireless in the background. His humming filled her ears, laughing and joking as he sang along to the words, before correcting Thomas on his use of grammar, attempting to teach him a better word to use which their son would undoubtedly butcher the pronunciation of.

Her lip wobbled, her eyes closing tighter as she tried to cling onto that image for as long as possible, her brow furrowing firmly, stubbornly even.

Behind him, she could see Colin, the young soldier approaching from the door before being swept up into her Williams arms in the exact way she could never quite replicate. He kissed him, in the exact way he would refuse to kiss her before whispering something in the private’s ear tugging a suggestive giggle from both of their lips. The younger soldier looked up at Maggie with a spiteful smirk and she felt her eyes squeeze tighter still, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the glass, causing it to knock on the table as her hand trembled. She was angry. She had never wanted all of this. Had felt duped into believing that this was a life she could have seen herself living, had thrown away all her flighty ambitions and for what?

She breathed out shakily, struggling to remain calm before she heard footsteps approaching the kitchen door, the familiar squeak of it opening. _He’s back._

“HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!!” She had flown to her feet, she glaring feral at her husband, loathing igniting her very soul. The glass shattered against the doorframe as she threw it at him before a terrified yelp brought her crashing to her senses.

“M-mummy?” Thomas trembled, staring up at Maggie confused, his tiny chest heaving at having narrowly missed the projectile.

She bit back a sob, rushing forward to scoop him up, tugging the four year old into her.

“I-I didn’t know it was you!” She whimpered, hiding her face against his curls. “You’re okay. I-it’ll be okay.” She pulled back, cupping Thomas’ face in her hands as she examined him. “I-I didn’t hit you did I?”

He shook his head confused, his lip wobbling and Maggie let out a sigh of relief, pushing his hair from his face.

“Wh-when’s daddy coming home?”

**1953 – Aged 32**

“It’s been very good spending time with you again, Maggie.” Jeremy smiled, patting Maggie’s arm as it linked with his as he led her down the row of cottages to her home. “We should really do it more often.”

“Yes, yeah… It’s been fun. And the look on old Peterson’s face was worth it, I suspect gossip will be all around the village come first light.” She smirked, nudging her childhood friend affectionately. Blenkinsop laughed, nodding before falling a little more serious as they approached the garden gate. The expression didn’t go unnoticed by Maggie. “What’s wrong, Jerry? You look like something awful has happened.”

He looked up, somewhat surprised that he had been caught out.

“Hmm? No, no. Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking is all.” He smiled sadly, turning to face her.

“Well out with it then, no good has ever come of just _thinking_. Talk to me.”

“It’s been 9 years, s-since William died, Maggie. It can’t be easy.” Maggie raised an eyebrow, pulling her head back.

“N-no, I won’t say it has been… but we get by… Do we really have to discuss this? It’s been such a pleasant evening.”

“No, no of course not. Sorry. It’s just… Tom is growing older now, what is he now? 11, 12?”

“13.”

“Good lord, already…” Blenkinsop chuckled nervously. “Almost a man now isn’t he.” Maggie was studying his face closely, the eyebrow still arched high.

“Yes…” She sniffed, growing suspicious. “Jeremy, if there’s a point to this, kindly out with it. I’m getting cold.”

“The boy needs a father. A-a male role model.”

“I see…” She tried not to laugh incredulously. “Well if you find someone, do let them send in an application, won’t you.”

“I meant myself, Maggie.” She froze, both brows knitting together. “Come on, we’ve known each other since we were children, and you know I have always been very fond of you…”

“Jerry…”

“I have a job, admittedly it’s not the army anymore, but it’s well paid. You wouldn’t have to ask for a thing. I’d look after both of you, get Thomas into a good school. A-and – “

“Jeremy, _Please. _What you’re suggesting is madness. I’m not going to marry you because it’s convenient. I don’t feel that way about you, I never have. I’m sorry, you are a dear, dear friend of mine and I _am_ very fond of you but marriage?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Out of the question.”

“It’s not madness. You could, given time, learn to love me?” He stepped a little closer. “Only an hour ago you were wishing you could have given Tom a brother or sister… I-I could…”

Maggie’s eyes went wide, taking a clear step back from him.

“I’m sorry, that was… Maggie I’m sorry. I just… I could give you everything William couldn’t. Wh-why can’t you see that?” Jeremy’s expression was almost desperate, his arms open as he pleaded his case. Maggie felt sick, her stomach twisting.

“You’re wrong.” She swallowed thickly, shaking her head. “This is all nonsense, Jeremy and it stops _now.” _She sniffed, pulling herself up to her full height. “The only thing I want, is my _husband_, and even William couldn’t give me that, so please don’t flatter yourself by thinking you can replace him. My boy has his memory of his father, and a mother to remind him when he forgets. _That_, is his role model, and how dare you think that I can’t raise Thomas on my own, or support my family on my own.”

Blenkinsop stared at her stunned, his mouth open. “Margaret I didn’t-“

“Save it. Thank you for this evening, but I believe you’ve said enough. Goodnight Jeremy.” She sniffed, turning without another word and disappeared into the cottage in a swish of skirt and a slammed door.

**1954- Aged 33**

“I still don’t understand why you never just settled down with that Blenkinsop chap, he seemed nice enough.” Maggie groaned as she rushed around the kitchen in the pokey flat she was now renting. Her Aunt Hyacinth, who was now living with them, sat at the table.

“I’ve already explained why, now are you going to help or just are you just going to let me run around trying to make Tom’s lunch for school. I have to leave for work in 10 minutes.”

“And that’s another thing. A child needs their mother present. How many jobs is it now?” Hyacinth bit into her toast, peering down her long nose at her niece. “Three? It’s a wonder the boy knows who you are.”

There was a clatter of dishes as Maggie rushed past, before she disappeared under the kitchen counter to retrieve Tom’s lunch box.

“Well it’s not as if I have a choice, do I. There was too many memories in the cottage, and I couldn’t get more work in the village.” She stood, glancing back at her aunt. “That and it just made sense moving out here. Thomas is at the school, so it’s all worked out nicely, hasn’t it.” Hyacinth grumbled, rolling her eyes as she looked about the tiny kitchen.

“Nicely isn’t a word I’d use. You’ve let the place go to ruin. A woman’s place is in the _home.” _

Maggie sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m not the only woman living here though am I?”

“I’m a guest!” Hyacinth squawked, gasping. “Do I not have the right to voice my concern at the standards my niece is raising her child in?”

“Standards?!” There was a click as Maggie closed Thomas’ lunch box. “Standards? You have been living here for the last 6 months after nagging me _repeatedly, _that I needed away from the cottage. 6 months rent free, might I add.”

Hyacinth stared, puffing uselessly as the redhead turned on her.

“I am working three jobs to put Thomas through Grammar school so he gets a decent education, keep a roof over our heads and feed all three of us!”

“Yes well if you hadn’t married that buffoon in the first... place…” Hyacinth trailed off, watching as Maggie raised a stern eyebrow, daring her to finish her thought. “I-I’m just saying…”

“How about you just _don’t. _Honestly, exactly what have you contributed to this house other than giving me a headache? You don’t pay rent, you don’t help with the housekeeping, and you sleep in my bed…”

“Now look here! I babysit for you!”

“He’s 14, Hyacinth. I had left school at that age and you had me jumping the train tracks for free coal! I’m sure Thomas will be quite fine left to his own devices, considering he normally is when you’re out playing bingo or sitting in Mrs Hawthorne’s house for your afternoon tea… I-I think it’s time you moved out.”

Her Aunt gasped, immediately clambering to fire back before Maggie raised a hand to silence her.

“I’m fed up with this. You don’t pay anything, and unless it’s chastising me for how I raise MY son you don’t do anything. You’ve got a week. This stops now, and you get your own place.” Maggie huffed, snatching up Thomas’ lunch box and her coat and left Hyacinth gawping at the table as she slammed the front door.

**1996- Aged 75**

Maggie sighed as she wandered downstairs, having been unable to sleep. Beside her, her miniature schnauzer trotted hopefully at her heels as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Alright, alright, I see you Bertie.” She chuckled, tightening her patterned dressing gown around her before she flicked the kettle on. “Come on then.” She bent down, grunting as she lifted the elderly dog up to her chest, stifling a laugh as he lapped at her face. “Yes I know, I know. Would you like a biscuit and a cup of tea as well? Would you?”

She reached out, fiddling with the packet of digestives on the counter and pulled out a broken half, gingerly holding it to the dog’s mouth. “Ah- fingers” she puffed, setting him back down on the floor again.

She turned to rummage in the cupboards, fishing out a porcelain mug Thomas had brought her back from a business trip abroad and a small children’s cereal bowl that one of her grandsons had used when they were tiny. Behind her, Bertie gruffed impatiently, paws tapping at the floor. “Alright, I know I’m coming. I can’t do anything until the kettles boiled can I?”

Bertie yapped.

“Well you’re just going to have to wait. It needs to cool down as well.”

She let out a puff as she flopped down onto her sofa, cup of tea in hand as she stared at the assortment of holiday snaps and school pictures that were displayed precariously on the fireplace. Above them, mounted on the wall was a portrait of William that had been enlarged by Thomas and given as a birthday present back in ’62. She smirked, shaking her head at the noise Bertie was making in the kitchen as he chased his bowl of tea around, before he trotted through, immediately leaping and joining her on the couch.

He sat expectantly, head cocked to the side and Maggie chuckled, reaching out to straighten the schnauzer’s moustache which was now sopping wet. “I expect you would like your biscuits now, wouldn’t you?” His tail began to wag. “I suppose you have been a good boy, haven’t you.” She fished around in her dressing gown pocket, pulling out a charcoal dog treat and giving it to him.

As he crunched loudly, her own cup of tea was brought to her lips, the steam immediately clouding her glasses. She sighed, waiting for them to clear before looking down at the dog who was now curling up beside her, quite content despite not being in bed. “Would you like another brother or sister?” Her spare hand stroked through the brindle fur on his side, only a quiet snort answering her. “Thought as much. I think we’ve both gotten too used to the peace, especially after Tilly died.” She made a face, though smirked as she remembered the Yorkshire terrier who used to terrorise the grandchildren with her incessant yapping.

She continued to sip her tea, listening to Bertie’s soft snoring and tried not to acknowledge he was doing so in time with the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece before eventually she opened her mouth again. “I think a holiday, might be in order soon, what do you think?” She looked down as though he was going to answer, a soft pout forming as she realised he was spark out. She continued regardless. “Caravan, perhaps? We could go to that nice little spot down in Dorset, you liked the park there didn’t you? I know you liked that big Dalmatian bitch… god knows what the puppies would look like now though, goodness.” She chuckled, draining the last of her tea before patting the dog’s side.

Bertie flinched, having already resigned himself to sleeping on the couch for the rest of the night, before he looked up with a loud snort, and Maggie could have sworn blind his eyes narrowed at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m sorry if I scared you but you weren’t listening…” she sighed, stroking her pet’s moustache to sort it, before giving a reassuring scratch behind his ear. “Come on, bedtime. Let’s hope we can actually get some sleep this time.”

She stood, patting her thigh and Bertie jumped off, trotting beside her as she made her way to the staircase. “Just no hogging the bed this time, you might be small but remember who’s boss.”


	13. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas offers some unexpected words to the Captain

“It’s been three days, has anyone seen him?”

There was a low grumble among the ghosts as they chatted amongst themselves, all of them shaking their heads.

“He’s still in his room. I mean honestly, she was 98. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh _really_, Julian.” Fanny grumbled, straightening her dress. “They were clearly very close. Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, does not mean that others can bounce back from something that easily.” The Edwardian lady of the manor had not let on that she had visited The Captain the night Maggie died, nor indeed of how distraught he had been. That she had decided, was private. “He’ll come out when he’s good and ready.” She sniffed, turning away from the group, before looking around confused. “Where’s Thomas?”

“Probably in lake.” Robin grunted, “Always lake.”

The Captain sat in the armchair in the corner of his room, eyes fixed on the window as he watched the world go by, before he sighed and turned to look across his room. His eyes immediately fell on the picture of himself, Maggie and Thomas and a deep set frown settled onto his face, his brow furrowing.

He hadn’t moved from his chair in three days, not since Fanny had left him the morning after Maggie died. He just didn’t have the energy to deal with the others. Hell, he didn’t have the energy to deal with _himself. _

He studied the picture, trying hard not to focus on Maggie to save the horrific, sickening knot twist in his gut every time he saw her. Instead, he concentrated on the younger image of his son, the memory of his last visit creeping forward in his mind. He silently hoped that it wasn’t going to be the last time he saw him, though with Maggie gone and his descendants thinking he was just a distant stranger, he didn’t hold out much hope.

_You were lucky you got to spend the time you did. Try not to dwell too much. Chances are he won’t remember._

He exhaled shakily, blinking hard with stinging eyes before he dragged his focus back towards the window, squinting through the glass.

“Captain?”

The quiet voice startled him and his head snapped to attention, staring at Thorne who had stealthily passed through the wall and who was now watching him curiously.

The Captain did not speak, his eyebrow raising sharply at the unwelcome intrusion.

“Are you alright?” The poet’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and genuine, no hint of dramatics and it made the Captain’s brow furrow in confusion. He jerked his head stiffly with a quiet grunt, turning to look out of the window again, hoping his brief acknowledgement was enough to satiate Thomas’ curiosity.

It hadn’t, and the soldiers frown grew more pronounced as he noticed Thomas perch on the end of his bed, hazel eyes boring into him.

“I’m fine, Thorne.” He reiterated, not daring to look at him fully.

There was a pause, and the Captain found himself studying the curtains to occupy himself in the awkward silence before he heard the poet clear his throat.

“I… lost a friend too, when I was young.” Thomas’ voice was quiet, tentative as he spoke. “We were by the lake one summer’s afternoon and she fell in. Her dress was too heavy and it pulled her under. She drowned.”

The Captain risked a look over at the younger man, still confused as to why he felt the need to bring up the subject, yet found himself relieved that Thomas was now looking at the carpet.

“I too-” The Captain quickly looked away again as the Regency gent began to talk again. “-know the feeling of loss, and the feeling of guilt at not being able to prevent it.”

The officer felt his brow knit together, and this time he could not fight the urge to look at him questioningly.

“I do not presume we feel the same!” Thomas quickly added, realising that his words may have been unjustified. “B-but I can assure you, that the feelings and thoughts that you are having now, are much the same as any wound.” He gestured to the bullet hole in his stomach. “They do not fade, but with time they become easier to bear.” The poet swallowed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he turned to gaze out of the window. “I could not save, dear Tessa, I can’t swim… You cannot change the past, Captain, and living in it will only serve to eat you alive. You have your memories, as I have mine. Keep them, but do not torture yourself over them…”

The Captain never responded to Thomas, nor did he return downstairs that night. Though the morning after he slowly made his way down towards the kitchen, his swagger stick firmly behind him though the usual stiff march of his footsteps were still a little lethargic.

As he moved closer he could hear squabbling, by the sounds of things Mary and Robin arguing over the better cereal despite neither of them having tasted any before. A dry smirk crept across his lips as he heard Pat trying to defuse the situation with Alison uselessly pleading in the background for the ghosts to just let her eat her breakfast in peace.

He cleared his throat as he entered the kitchen, surveying the scene in front of him with a questioning quirk of his eyebrow. The room fell silent, with everyone present looking up at the Captain as though expecting him to call them into order, or at the very least telling them to quieten down. He frowned, rocking on his heels a little awkwardly.

“Y-you alright, mate?” Pat nudged his glasses back up his nose, stepping forward to greet him. “It’s good to see you fina-“

“I’m fine thank you Patrick” The Captain interrupted, clearing his throat again as he looked around at Alison and the other ghosts. “As you were.”


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months later...

Most of the ghosts gathered around the front step of Button House, studying the modest turnout for a VE celebration Alison had arranged with the help of the local village council. Kitty, however, was in her element, her childlike exuberance prancing in between the tables and admiring the cakes that the local women’s institute had provided. Fanny followed behind closely, her chiding audible over the soft hum of chatter across the grounds.

“It’s quite a good turnout considering the size of the village.” Pat chirped, one finger pushing his glasses back up his nose as he squinted in the bright sunlight. “See anyone you recognise?”

“No…” The Captain murmured, sighing as he scanned the lawn.

“Well, I’m not surprised. It is over 70 years since it the war.” Julian sniffed, rocking back on his heels with a carefree smile. “Still, not to worry. Actually, this reminds me of a birthday party the MP for Dun-“

“Ah, Alison.” The Captain gladly interrupted, straightening up as she approached. “Anything to report? All present and correct I assume?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She smiled as she turned to examine the crowd, ignoring Julian’s complaint that he was about to give an amusing anecdote. “So, most of the people here are just family of the soldiers who were based here. Although up the back we have-“

“Tom! Thomas!” Robin suddenly shouted, jumping up and down and pointing frantically. His other hand had reached out, tugging the Captain’s sleeve unceremoniously which for once, didn’t annoy the officer one bit. The Captain sniffed, standing to attention, a small smile on his face before he noticed Alison grinning at him.

“Go on, I’ll let you know if I find someone from back in the day.” The Captain nodded, swiftly marching off towards a quieter table set near the water fountain with Robin quickly following suit.

“They… They do know I’m right here, don't they?” Thorne asked confused.

“They weren’t talking about you, you berk.” Julian huffed, “I’m going to have a nosey. Work the room. See if there’s any familiar faces.”

The Captain stood at the side of the table for a while, now alone but still happily listening to his great grandson Will chatter pleasantly to Thomas. He smiled gently, noting that his son seemed to be on better form than how he had previously seen him. _Perhaps he’s just glad he’s out of the nursing home for a bit. _He thought to himself, before stepping back as Will made to stand up.

“I’m just going to nip to the bathroom, Grandad, will you be alright here?” Tom nodded, sipping his tea. The Captain paused, taking the opportunity to sit in the now empty seat Will had left, before sighing softly as he turned to look at Tom again, freezing in his tracks.

Tom was staring directly back at him

“You haven’t aged a day.” Tom noted, a dry smile stretching across his thin lips. The Captain stared back, speechless for a long moment before he found himself sucking in a lungful of air before forcing words out.

“Y-you can see me?”

“Course I can, why wouldn’t I? Are you coming home soon? Mum misses you.” The Captain sighed, closing his eyes.

“Soon, Love. Soon. Have you seen your mum?”

“Not for a while... I’m going to see her soon though.”

“You are?”

Tom nodded with a grunt, his hand shaking a little as he brought his cup of tea to his mouth.

“Tom?” The Captain watched him solemnly, trying to take in as much as he could hold in his memory. His son raised an eyebrow, turning his head to look at him. “Do you remember when the Messerschmitt flew over?” He sniffed, glancing over to the tree that still stood in the middle of the lawn. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Tom following his gaze.

“You left me.”

“I didn’t, Tom. I promise you. I was still there. I don’t know why you couldn’t see me after but I promise you I was there. I’ve always been here. Every visit I promise.” He swallowed thickly, meeting his sons gaze once more.

“You can’t leave, can you?”

There was a pause, the Captain’s teeth grinding a little as he deliberated lying, feeling as though it would bring some comfort to him. _He deserves the truth, you coward, not fairy tales!_

“No… I’m afraid I have to stay here.” He frowned, tilting his head, his fingers tightening around his swagger stick. “But I’ll always remain here though.” He reached forward, fingertips stopping just shy of the medals he was awarded posthumously, now pinned on Tom’s chest. “I’ll a_lways _remain here. I promise.” He looked up, noticing Will running back across the grass, and stood, stepping away from the table.

“Hey! Sorry I wasn’t away too long was I?” Will grinned sheepishly as he sat back down beside Tom, oblivious of the ghost beside them. The Captain huffed a chuckle, swagger stick being held in both hands behind his back as he leaned into Tom’s ear.

“Spend time with your grandson, love, you’ve done me exceptionally proud. You’ll see your mother and I soon. I promise.” He pulled back, smiling as Tom looked up at him. “I love you Son. Never forget that.” He smirked as Tom went to open his mouth, and the Captain lifted a finger to his own lips hushing him and shook his head. “I know.” He winked, before nodding to Will, finally choosing to retreat as Tom turned his back to him.

He didn’t stop as he made his way back to the house, eager to get as far away from the festivities as possible. In a brief glance across the maze of tables he saw Julian hovering around Alison who was chatting to an elderly looking couple and he could have sworn the politician’s face had turned a ghastly shade of pale green. _It doesn’t matter. Just get back to the house._ He turned back quickly to take one last look at Tom at the table, and he sighed a little relieved to see that their conversation had only been a fleeting moment of diluted clarity in his son’s addled mind. _Get back to the house!_ As he continued to walk, a growing sense of urgency swelled in his chest and he found himself all but running back to his quarters, passing seamlessly through the door before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the silhouette at the window.

“M-Maggie?” he swallowed thickly, brow knitting together as he took a few steps forward to join her at the window.

“Did you see Thomas?” The Captain nodded, trying to quickly piece everything together.

“…how-“

“I wanted my goodbye.” Maggie looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips as her gaze moved back to observe the crowd on the lawn.

“I see…” He followed her line of vision to their son who was still listening to Will talk enthusiastically, both ghosts falling quiet for a few moments. “I’m not going to see Tom again, am I?” His fingers fidgeted, tightening around his stick as he continued to watch. In his other hand, he felt Maggie’s slip in comfortably, delicate fingers squeezing his reassuringly.

“Not until you’re able to join us, no…”

“When?”

“Tonight. He’s tired, William.” She swallowed thickly, turning to look at him properly. “Did you get my letter?” The Captain nodded, gesturing weakly with his stick to the bedside table, the letter still propped against the lamp.

“Y-yes, Alison delivered it.” His voice was quiet, his military training having not prepared him for the situation he was presented with.

“Good. She’s a good girl that one.” Maggie nodded. “Colin is fine, by the way. He wanted to come but couldn’t. He says he’ll see you once you find the light.” She frowned at the large sniff that came from him, her hand reaching cautiously to rub his back. “I’m sorry, Will. I should have realised this was going to reopen old wounds. I just… I just needed to say goodbye to you properly.” She admitted quietly, chewing her lip as she offered him her hand to shake, figuring he’d prefer to maintain the distance. “Goodbye, William.”

The Captain stared at her hand, breathing in hard through his nose before looking back up at his wife. Her expression made him break, his head shaking as he exhaled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Good lord, come here you foolish girl.” He pushed her hand to one side with his stick hand, the other cupping round the back of her neck as he pulled her into his chest carefully wrapping his arms around her tightly. “You wonderful, brilliant yet foolish girl.” He pressed his lips against her cheek firmly, eyes squeezing shut as he felt her arms move around his middle, her body relaxing against his with a small sigh of relief as she nuzzled into his neck. “I am so very, very sorry for everything.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” She whispered, sniffing. “You just need to forgive yourself.” She nodded, pulling back a fraction to look up at him, green eyes shining. A small smile crept onto her face, and her hand lifted to stroke his cheek, fingers brushing the edge of his moustache. “I need to go. Look after yourself.” She lifted herself up onto her tiptoes, pressing her own kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you soon.”

The Captain nodded, pulling her in again for another embrace, his grip on her tightening, refusing to let go before he suddenly stumbled forward. His eyes flew open, scanning the now empty room for some sign that she was still around before he looked out of the window, finding two empty seats where Thomas and Will had previously sat. In the distance, the sound of a car leaving gravel and joining tarmac rumbled. _Too late._

He sighed, the sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway seemingly mocking him in the otherwise deathly quiet room. _I’ll be with you all as soon as I can, I promise._ The officer shook his head, frowning as he made his way to his chair in the corner of the room and lowered himself carefully into it. His hand shifted, swagger stick resting gingerly on his lap as he turned to study the floral wallpaper that hung behind his bed, his eyes drifting towards the small portrait of himself, Maggie and Thomas and the even smaller passport sized photo of Colin that sat beside the mirror on his bedside table. _Soon as I can.  
  
  
_


	15. The Vote: (closes 3rd October 2020)

Hey guys! I've recently noticed that this fic has gotten close to 1000 hits and just wanted to say a massive **THANK YOU!!**

To mark it, I wanted to add an additional chapter. A flash back special, if you will. And figured I'd throw out a vote on what people would want to see.

To vote- You can either message me privately on social media if you have me on there- OR If you could leave a comment at the bottom of the fic to what option, or if you have a specific request I haven't thought of feel free to put that down as well. **I'll keep the options up for 2 weeks**

**Option 1**

The Captain and Colin Compilation

**Option 2**

Maggie and The Captain Compilation

**Option 3**

The Captain gets to grips with fatherhood

**Option 4**

Maggie and Colin's reconciliation

**Option 5**

Colin and Tom meet

Thanks again!!

Morrigan


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